


Honor Among Criminals

by redandwhiteroses



Series: Honor Among X [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Murder, Boba Fett isn't dead but everyone thinks he is, Crime boss!Boba Fett, Crime boss!Din, Dark!Boba Fett, Dark!Din Djarin - Freeform, Din is a Tired Dad, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gun Violence, Kidnapping, Murder, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Organized Crime, Reader Insert, Slow Burn, idiots to lovers, mentions of human trafficking, stalking i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 58,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28371477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redandwhiteroses/pseuds/redandwhiteroses
Summary: Summary: Your job is to broker alliances between criminals and the major company you work for. You help the company get what they want without getting their hands dirty, and you provide the criminals with protection. At least, that was your job until a better offer came along. Up and coming crime boss Din Djarin needs someone to play diplomat for him. You might be the right person for the job.This is a modern AU with crime boss!Din and crime boss!Boba Fett
Relationships: Boba Fett/Reader, Din Djarin/Boba Fett/Reader, Din Djarin/Reader
Series: Honor Among X [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116431
Comments: 71
Kudos: 172





	1. Chapter 1

The click of your heels echoes in the empty hallways.

Most people have gone home for the night. You know you’re not the only one here, that several other people are forced to work until late at night, but you rarely see them. They stay holed up in their offices, desperately trying to finish reports or get started on ones due tomorrow at 9 am. You step into a room filled with cubicles. The lights to the office at the end of the room are on. You sigh. You straighten your back. You were really hoping that he would have gone for the day. Your boss always had something extra for you to do, no matter how late or when.

You make your way across the room. You’re hoping that maybe he’ll be busy enough that he won’t say anything once you drop the files off, but you doubt that will happen. You stop in front of the door to his office. God. This job made you want to bash your head against a wall. You sigh. You knock on the door.

“Come in.”

You open the door and step inside. Your boss looks up from the stack of papers in front of him.

“Here’s today’s reports, sir.” You try your best to sound cheery. Yoru boss grunts and motions for you to place them on the corn of his desk. You do so and step back. You automatically clasp your hands behind your back “Is there anything else you need me to do before I leave?”

“Yes, actually.” Dammit. You have to force your smile to stay on your face. Your boss straightens a stack of papers before looking at you. He purses his lips in thought. The chair squeaks as he leans back in it. You try to keep the smile pleasant. “You handled Fett’s case, yeah?”

“I did.” It’s becoming harder and harder to keep a smile on your face.

“Great. So you know a lot about them Mandalorians?”

“I know a good bit. May I ask why you’re asking?” You arch an eyebrow. Your boss nods and makes some noises of understanding.

“Uh huh, uh huh. See, there’s been some power shifting lately. Some Mando took control of one of the outfits. We want to talk with him, you know? Make sure that he knows he can rely on us if he needs any support.”

The meaning isn’t lost on you. The smile on your face becomes genuine. You had been sidelined for quite a while, and you were more than ready to get back into the game. “Of course. Do we have a file on him?”

Your boss tosses a manilla folder your way, and you scoop it up eagerly. “Meeting is set up for tomorrow at 9 am. I’m sure you remember the drill.”

“Of course.” Your boss motions that you can go. You head towards the door. You’re just about to leave when he calls you again.

“Oh, and. Make sure that what happened with Fett doesn’t happen again, okay?” He laughs to himself as he exits. You try to act as if you aren’t planning a million different ways to murder him as you stalk across the dark room toward the exit

*************************************************************************************************

The trip back to your apartment is uneventful. You don’t have any mail in your mailbox. You look wistfully towards the elevator before sighing. You wished that you could take the elevator, but it had been drilled into you that’s the last thing you wanted to do.

_”You get in an elevator, you’re a sitting duck.” The little voice in the back of your head, the one that sounded like Boba Fett, gently reminded you. “Some of the easiest kills I’ve done were in elevators.”_

You begin your trek up the stairs. At least the complex is nice. You aren’t sure if it’s paranoia or safety that makes you move from complex to complex. This one was way better than the last one. You hadn’t stayed at that one long. You honestly long for the days of the swanky apartment building. Yeah, it did suck, feeling as if you didn’t belong every time you stepped into the hallway, but at least you knew that you were safe and secure. Well, as safe and secure as you could be at the time. All that being said, you didn’t miss the rent. That took out way too much of your paycheck. 

You stop at your door. The piece of paper in the door jam is exactly where and how you left it. You unlock your door and slip inside. The lights go on, and you’re alone. You lock and deadbolt the door behind you before placing your purse on the side table. Next, you go to the windows and check each one. The living room one is good and the bedroom one is good. No broken glass, and the assorted knick knacks lining them haven’t been disturbed. You place two heavy books on the top of the frame once you check them. You don’t open the blinds. You’re too tired to think about watching TV, and you only have them open when you do that. You can’t have them closed all the time because people will get weird. So you open them whenever you watch TV.

The vents are fine. That one is the one you skip the most often. You don’t tonight. Nothing feels off, but you feel like you should just in case. Everything seems to be in working order. You take out a packet of test strips from your cabinet and turn on the faucet in the kitchen sink. The strip comes back normal. You do the same for your bathroom. They’re also fine. You let out a sigh of relief.

Your shower is quick. You’ll end up taking one in the morning since you always like to make a good impression with new clients. The foundation for a good impression is often an extended shower combined with extra time spent on hair and make-up. It’s not long before you hop out and get into your pajamas. You pad over to the kitchen and fill up your water bottle. As you do so, you glance through some of the take-out menus thrown haphazardly into a drawer. You pick one and call in your order. Once that’s done, you flop down on the couch.

“Shit.” You’ve still got to read the file. With a grumble, you stand up and open the living room blinds. You turn on the TV and then grab the file to read. You pick some show you know you won’t watch. You just need it to seem like you are. You flop back onto the couch and begin skimming the file. It doesn’t give you much. It seems like the man you’re supposed to meet, Mando as the file so helpfully calls him, is one of the Foundlings as opposed to being born into the criminal empire. Not much else is known about Mando. One thing does catch your eye.

“He has a kid?” You raise your eyebrow at that. You scan the few lines about the kid and snort. That would explain why the two of you are to meet early in the day as opposed to some ungodly hour. Your phone rings. It’s the delivery driver. You go collect your food and settle back in, making sure to check that nothing is awry after you close the door. The file doesn’t tell you much more, so you end up calling it a night once you’ve finished reading it. Of course, you have to check the windows, close the blinds, set several alarms, and set out everything you need for the morning. Once that’s all done, you crawl into bed and promptly pass out. 

**************************************************************************************************

The park is a fairly nice one. It’s not too far away from a Pre-K school. You’re not surprised Mando picked this location. You sit on the bench and watch people pass by. You’ve got a cup of coffee in your hand and a can of coffee on the bench beside you. You watch a passing couple with interest. You catch something silver flashing in the light occasionally. It takes you too long to realize the light is the sun shining off of a charm on the woman’s bag.

Someone behind you speaks your name. You whirl around.

Mando is not what you expected. For starters, his helmet is shiny and clean. It’s a beautiful chrome, almost silver, color. The rest of his motorcycle outfit is similarly colored. It might make someone else look like a walking suit of armor, but Mando someone manages to pull it off. He’s slender, but you can still tell he’s got muscles. He has the trademark aura of danger. It’s different, though. It feels as if he’s the sort of person to let you say your piece before he kills you. Perhaps if you even made a reasonable argument you might be let go, but that would be doubtful.

“I take it you’re the man I’m to speak with.” You note wryly. You pick up the canned coffee. Mando comes around to your side of the bench and sits down. You notice he’s got two coffee cups in hand as well and let out a laugh. He looks at you. “Same idea.” You point out as you hold the bottled coffee out to him. “I wasn’t sure what you would like, so I guessed.”

Mando puts both of his cups down and takes the one you offered. “Thanks.” His voice is deep but not as deep as you would expect. He takes one of his and offers it to you. He reads out your coffee order exactly how you like it. You blink, taken by surprise. You try to mask your surprise with gratitude.

“Thank you.” You take your cup. Mando eyes you as you take a sip. It’s perfect.

“You’re not the only ones who can do research.” He comments idly. Thankfully, he waits until you’re not taking a sip. 

“I hope I was as hard to find information about as it was you.” You fire back without thought. Mando lets out a noise.

“Did the file even get my name?” You shake your head. “Good. That means I’ve been doing my job right.” He takes a moment to look at you. You can tell he’s sizing you up, trying to get an idea of who you are just from the way you present yourself. “You can call me Din since we’re working together.”

“Din.” You let the single syllable roll of your tongue. You evaluate him in turn. “Nice to officially meet you.”

“Same goes for you.” Din crosses his arms and leans against the bench. He looks out at the park. “So, where is it? I know you’ve probably got a treat for the kid to butter me up.”

“Actually, I didn’t.” Din turns his head just enough to look at you. You shrug. “It didn’t feel right. I’m not trying to buy your affection by buying a kid’s love.”

Din makes a noise of agreement before turning back to the park. Something is bugging you, though. 

“I have to ask. There’s doing research, and then there’s doing enough research to get a coffee order right. So who’s your source?”

You can’t see his face through the helmet’s visor, but something tells you he’s smiling. Not a pleasant smile but an amused one, as if he was just waiting for you to ask. You aren’t sure how you know, you just do. 

“I like to be prepared.” He answers after a moment of silence. “I don’t deal with just anyone.”

“That doesn’t explain how you got my coffee order right.” You counter. Din tilts his head slightly.

“No, it doesn’t.” He stops. You can’t tell if the pause is for dramatic effect or if he’s choosing his words carefully. “Boba Fett picked and chose his company carefully. You making that list means he saw something in you. I did my research to make sure that what he saw wasn’t clouded by other judgements.”

“Oh?” You have to fight back an icy tone. “Did you now.”

He shifts, turning fully. He slings one of his arms across the back of the bench. “I’m not interested in you just because you’re Fett’s girl. I don’t give a shit about that. I care about making sure whomever I deal with has some integrity. I know companies will try and screw me over. I want someone who won’t try it themselves.”

“I’d be stupid to do so.” You take a sip of your coffee. You can feel your shoulders dropping. “I have no wish to die an interesting death. I also don’t want to cheat anyone. That’s the main reason.”

Din laughs. It’s short and brief, but he laughs. The corners of your lips twitch upward.

“Same here. I’d like to die in my sleep.” He looks back out at the park. You realize that he’s scanning it, making sure no one is a potential threat. “The kid is the most important thing to me. I refuse to have him be used as a chess piece.”

“So, was this a test of some kind? To see if I’d try to use the kid against you this early?” You’re halfway joking. From the way he tenses up, you realize that you might be onto something. Din lets out a heavy sigh.

“I have a Creed, and that Creed means a lot to me. The Creed was around before I was born and will be around after I die. My son will pass that Creed on. It is the Way.” He turns to face you once again. A steel edge creeps into his tone. “I won’t deal with anyone who doesn’t respect the Creed.” This time, when he stops, it’s clear he’s examining you. Not in an unkind way. It feels surprisingly soft. His tone lends credence to the idea, his volume lowering and edges melting away into nothing. “I can tell you have a code. It’s not the same as mine, but it’s far closer than anyone I’ve seen before.”

“Thank you.” Your voice is quiet. Something about the way he spoke when talking about the Creed told you that it was a high honor for him to think you followed something similar. 

“I see what Fett saw in you.” His words are both sour and sweet. The meaning behind them is not malicious. The mention of Boba Fett leaves a strange taste in your mouth. It’s not bitter. It’s not entirely pleasant either. 

“Now look who’s trying to butter someone up.” You grouse. Your eyes widen when you realize you said it aloud. Din makes another noise. It’s at least an amused one. 

“Boba isn- wasn’t a kind man. He cared deeply about you, though.” Din looks up at the sky for a second. “I knew him to be ruthless and domineering. I only saw him being gentle around you.”

You blink. “Huh. I didn’t- You didn’t look familiar.”

“I make it my job to go unseen.” He responds easily. “Not that you would have anyway. You were wrapped up in him.”

“A dangerous type of love.” You murmur, more to yourself than him. “Mix up love and possession.”

If Din hears you, he doesn’t say anything. You aren’t sure if he’s lost in thought or simply observing. You have the feeling that it’s the latter and that he wants people to think it’s the former. People lower their guard if they think you aren’t paying attention. Din is definitely shrewd. Not in the way that Boba Fett was. He’s a different kind of shrewd. You get the impression that he won’t be mean unless he had to be. He only uses this information to know how he should proceed.

“Tell your bosses I’ll do business with them under one condition.” 

“Name it. I have a feeling they’ll agree to just about anything you say.” You snort into your coffee. “They’re desperate to work with you. Any traction they can gain, they want.”

“I want to work with you and you alone.” His tone is blunt. “That includes any company demands. I don’t want them to be the company’s idea. I want them to be yours.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “So. You want nothing to do with the company and everything to do with me.”

“Yes.” The single word sends a shiver up your spine. You’re not sure if it’s pleasant or not. “I don’t have any loyalty for your company.”

“Mhhhmm. What, you only bend the knee to me?” You don’t know why he brings out your more teasing side. You’re not sure if it’s because you think he’s flustered easily or if you want to see what happens if he’s pushed too far. You don’t think he’d be violent towards you. You think he’d do something much more pleasant for both of you.

“Is that what you want?” His tone dips and becomes dark in a way that absolutely sends a delicious zing through your body. “You want me on my knees?”

You nearly spit out your coffee at the implications in his tone. You try to come up with something clever to say. Din makes an amused noise. “Don’t play games you can’t win.” You think he wanted to tack on some sort of nickname but decided better of it. 

“Point taken.” You clear your throat and set down your coffee. You straighten out your pencil skirt. “I wasn’t given what my bosses want from you other than for you to work for them in exchange for money or legal protection. If this arrangement is to happen, what do you want from them?”

“I thought I made what I want clear.” Din huffs.It’s clear what he’s referring to. 

“I’m not sure they’ll go for that.” You raise an eyebrow.

“Then I won’t do business with them.” Din speaks with such authority that you know his mind had been made up long before this conversation. He stands up suddenly, the leather of his motorcycle outfit creaking as he does so. He looks down at you for a moment. “The sleeve on your cup crooked.” He notes wryly. “I’d fix that if I were you.”

You frown. You didn’t think it was crooked. You look at it, and it’s on straight. It takes you a moment to realize that he must be telling you something is on the inside. You look up to give him some sort of indication you know what he was trying to tell you, but he’s already gone. The noise of a motorcycle engine starting tells you all you need to know.

“Great. Working with someone who follows the Batman MO.” You murmur. You slip the sleeve off the cup and look at it. Three things are scrawled on the inside. The first is how to phrase what Din wants to your bosses. The second is what to do once the negotiations are over. The third is a phone number. Something tells you that the number is only to be used if the negotiations go sideways.

*********************************************************************************************

“Absolutely not.” Your boss leans back in his chair. You had taken the time to write the demands out on a napkin. You had torn up the sleeve as soon as you’d done that to make sure no one could follow your tracks. You raise an eyebrow.

“He said it’s the only way he’ll work with the company.” You counter. “I thought that you wanted this contract.”

“Look, hon.” You have to actively fight the urge to snarl at that. “He just wants you to work for him because of well. You know.”

“No, I don’t.” You keep your voice calm and level. Even then, it’s easy to tell that your boss is close to a line. “Do enlighten me.”

“Don’t be like that. Come on. You know as well as I do that the moment you started your...” Your boss pauses to wave his hand in the air in a vague manner. “Thing with Boba Fett that people would only see you as a way to get to him. If he ever comes back, of course.”

“I see. And is that the company’s official stance?” 

Your boss pauses. You’re pretty sure that if someone in the main area dropped a pen, you’d hear it loud and clear. “Well, no, but-”

“Thank you.” You interrupt your boss. “This has been very enlightening to me.” You lift your chin. Your back is ramrod straight.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that!” Your boss says. You ignore him, opting to walk out of his office. “We see you as more than that! You’re a good employee!”

You walk out of his office. The minute you step outside, all of your coworkers in their cubicles begin suddenly working. The sounds of keyboards clacking all at once is deafening. You hear a chair creak behind you. You wonder exactly what you’re going to do at this point. You could accept the apology and leave it at that. You probably could use it to your advantage and get a raise out of it. Finally, you could tender your resignation. To be honest, you had been thinking about the last option for a while now. The only thing that had been stopping you was the fact you needed money to pay for everything, and your employers would make it incredibly difficult for you to find another job in this sector.

The words scribbled by the phone number had you considering the last option for real.

You stride across the room. You hear your boss call your name, but you ignore him. You slip inside your office and shut the door behind you. It closes with a satisfying sound. You hum and consider what to do. Well. You already know what you’re going to do, it’s just a matter of how best to do it. Of course, it might not matter anyway. With that, you go over to your desk. You open up your email and begin writing.

By the time you finish, it’s about the time when people take their lunch break. Thankfully, the letter itself was short enough to write. You wait until people have begun leaving to pull out one of the boxes you have underneath your desk. You didn’t keep too many things in your office, so all you need is the one box and the space left in your purse. A knock on your door nearly makes you jump, despite the fact you were expecting it.

“Come in.” You call, placing the box on top of your desk. Your boss opens the door and steps inside. He at least has the decency to look sheepish.

“Look. I think you might have taken what I said the wrong way.” He begins. You smile at him. From the look on his face, he clearly noticed the smile was more teeth than anything else.

“I can assure you I did not.” The inflection you use takes you by surprise, but it makes sense. God knows how many times you had heard Boba Fett say those words in that tone. It’s the tone he used whenever someone tried to claim that he misunderstood something or that maybe he was the one who made the mistake, not him. The tone alone is a lethal weapon. Your boss blinks. His mouth hangs slightly open. You realize then that he’s never heard you stand up for yourself. He had fallen into the same trap that everyone else had; he had assumed because you had morals that you were a pushover. The mistake in this case was yours.

You let him believe that he could push you around for too long.   
“Okay. Maybe I shouldn’t ha-” You hold up your hand. Your boss’s jaw snaps shut with a click.

“Here is what’s going to happen.” You tell him. Your normally pleasant tone has an edge to it. “I’m going to send this email I’ve written. It’s got you, HR, and your boss all copied on it. I’ve packed my things in preparation for moving into your office. I know for a fact that they’ll want to give your job to me once I send this.”

“You’re lying.” He counters. His face is pale. You shake your head.

“Oh, no I’m not.” You chuckle. “If I were you, I’d go ahead and run to my office so I can get started on packing.”

“Oh, come on.” He counters. “You’re being unreasonable. It was a joke!”

“No. I’m not. And you’re wrong.” You lean across the table. “The joke is about to be you. Now get the hell out of my office.”

Your boss blinks. He looks at you before scurrying out and mumbling something under his breath. You send your email. You pick up your box. You wait until you hear his office door slam before you make your way out of the office, box under your arm and purse on your shoulder. Through the windows, you can see him on the phone.

It was true that he was about to be the joke. That was only part of it. Right before he’d come knocking, you had sent an email to HR. You had a long list of grievances for them to address. You knew the moment he called, he would be in deep trouble. The email that you just sent was to him, HR, and his boss, tendering your resignation. You knew that you were a valuable asset to the company, so that alone would put your now former boss in trouble. He’s so wrapped up in his phone call he doesn’t see you go over to the elevators and leave.

The elevator hits the first floor. You left everything that the company would ask for in your office. The people that went to lunch haven’t started filtering back into the building yet. The security guard waves as you walk by. He’s too focused on getting all of the onions out of his sandwich to notice the box under your arm. You stop once you’re outside. It takes you a moment to locate your phone, but once you do, you dial the number that was on the inside of the coffee sleeve. You put it to your eat and begin walking again.

“I didn’t think you’d call so soon.” In the background, you can hear a kid babbling. You shrug.

“I didn’t either.” You clear your throat. “I don’t suppose that if I were to say, quit my job, you would still be willing to work with me?”

“I might have a job opening for you.” Din’s tone is teasing. “If you give me your address, I can meet you there as soon as possible.” He stops. You can hear more babbling, and Din replying. You can make out several ‘No’s and ‘Because I said so’. Finally, you hear a ‘Fine.’ Din comes back with a sigh. “I can meet you there as soon as possible after I stop at McDonalds.”

“That sounds perfect.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warnings for a lengthy description of a shoot-out/gun violence and a quick description of a man stabbed to death.

_The bar is small. It’s on a nicer side of town. Not so nice that it’s chic but nice enough that most people would feel comfortable walking into it. It’s got plenty of sightlines with several doors and windows. You scan the room before you see who you’ve come to meet. He’s sitting in a corner, one that gives him almost perfect sightlines to almost every entrance. You make your way over to him. The only indication you get that he noticed your presence is a slight lift of the moss green motorcycle helmet._

_”May I?” You gesture towards the seat._

_”Be my guest.” His voice is a deep rumble. It sends a wonderful feeling along your spine. Despite the fact he only said three words, you know exactly how he meant them. You were wasting your time with pleasantries. You take a seat. He leans back in the booth to examine you. The two of you stare at each other in silence for a long moment. You think he’s waiting to see if you’ll speak first or not. He seems to be the sort of man that can outwait almost anyone._

_You won’t go down without a fight._

_You study him. His moss green motorcycle helmet is old, flecks of paint falling off of it. You can see some dents in the metal. They’re very small and scattered. His motorcycle outfit has green padding around his torso, knees, and elbows. The rest is black. It seems more like a military uniform than anything else. The visor is outlined in red. You think he must be ex-military or his father must have been. His stature and posture is too controlled. Of course, he could have taught himself that._

_He’s staring back at you. Even through the visor, you can feel the heat of his gaze. You get the feeling that he might be amused by you studying him._

_”You’re wasting your time, Little One.” His voice is thick with amusement. A pleasant heat rushes to your face, and you have to fight to keep your expression under control._

_”Am I?” You raise an eyebrow. “I’ve found you can learn a lot about someone from the way they present themselves. I’m sure you’ve already figured out a lot about me just from the way I’m presenting myself.”_

_He stares at you wordlessly. You have to fight the sudden urge to squirm. This must be what bugs feel like when you examine them with a microscope. It’s intense, even with the visor in the way. You can tell if he’s going to move on to why you’re here or if he’s going to rise up to your silent challenge._

_”Daddy didn’t come from money.” His gravelly voice makes your insides twist in a wonderful way. He tilts his head ever so slightly. “You made your big break by getting into an elite university. Probably got a job at your company because of a boy toy. You act like you hate playing mean and dirty, but it’s what got you here. You feel guilty for it so you play extra nice to make up for it.” He leans back in the booth again, the worn leather creaking._

_You blink. You let out a short laugh. “Very close. Incredibly close, actually. Still not 100% correct.” You study him for a long moment. “Your dad didn’t come from money either. You’re used to relying on no one but yourself, so I’m assuming you lost your dad early on. You’re smart, smarter than most people realize. When you combine that with, oh, two or three decades of experience fighting, you get an unstoppable force. If you had a different life or even been born into a rich family, you would be CEO of a company like the one I work for.” You lean back in your chair. A thought occurs to you. “You could be King of this city, but you’re not. So that means you’re waiting for a more opportune time to strike.”_

_“So you can read a file.” He fires back. You smile and shake your head._

_”I did basic research about you, as I’m sure you did me. You wouldn’t have caught elite university just from the way I hold myself.” Your tone comes out far more teasing than you intend it to. “I did read a file, yes, but I know what I read in a file and what I get in person can be two different things. Which is why I arranged this meeting without my employers knowing. If I’m going to have a working relationship with you, I want to get to know you. It serves a purpose for both of us. Trust and mutually assured destruction can go hand in hand.” You reach into your purse and slide a thick envelope across the table. He picks it up silently. “I did the math on how much I might be worth hunting down, so you’re getting paid for your time. I also put a little about an... acquaintance.” Your tone makes it clear that there’s a reason you put the information in the envelope. “You don’t have to deal with him. It’s more in case you don’t think I paid you enough. I can make up the difference with whatever he’d be worth.”_

_Boba Fett opens up the envelope. He rifles through the cash briefly before pulling out the information you’d given about the particular bounty you wanted. He scans it quickly. He looks at you. “I’m not going to be your best friend.” His voice is hard to read._

_”I know. I’m not asking you for that. I don’t need to know what you want for your birthday. I just need to know enough about who you are as a person to trust you.”_

_He stares at you for a long moment. You’re beginning to suspect that you offended him, that you’ve asked for too much and that he’s going to kill you for insolence or something like that. You imagine that his expression would be unreadable, even without the visor in the way. It’s hard to not squirm under his gaze. “So long as you give me the same reassurance in return.”_

_”Of course.” You nod. “That’s what I was planning.”_

_He makes a noise like he doesn’t believe you. “Somehow I doubt that, Princess.”_

*********************************************************************************************************

The kid’s name is Grogu.

He stares back at you from his seat on your couch, only looking away to grab another fry and stuff it into his mouth. You snort. It’s hard to keep the smile off of your face. 

“Why the green paint?” You finally ask.

Din lets out a long-suffering sigh that only a single parent can manage. “He heard someone talk about how it was good to be green. I tell him no, but every time I get him...”

“He’s covered himself with green paint?” You try to keep the amusement out of your voice. Din nods. He seems so tired all of a sudden. “It could be worse. He could be covered in mud all the time.” 

Grogu giggles. You give him your best stern-but-not-all-that-stern look. “That’s not a challenge, young man.”

Grogu giggles again. He kicks his feet as he does so. You have to look at Din, otherwise you’ll start laughing along with the kid. Din looks resigned. 

“Thanks for that.” His tone is dry. “He’ll be covered in it every day for a week now.”

“You’re welcome.” You slowly stand up to your full height. You regard the smaller guest for a second. “While we talk business, is he going to be okay? I think I have some stuffed animals from when I was young lying around here somewhere.”

“He’ll be fine.” Din’s tone is reassuring. “He'll probably climb in my lap and fall asleep. I’m surprised, though. You didn’t strike me as the sentimental type.”

You shrug. “I liked them and still do, so I keep them around. I also never know when I might need them.” A lump settles in your throat. You try to shake the sudden feeling. Din clearly notices from the way he stares at you, but he has the courtesy to not say anything. “So. Job opportunities. Do you need to see my resume?”

Din laughs. It’s a soft sound that makes your heart do a funny little flip-flop. You try to push that feeling down. That would be the last thing you need. 

“You really have no idea, do you?” He takes a seat on the couch. You meander over to your desk chair, spinning around in it to face him. 

“Any idea about what?” You cross one leg over the other, clasping your hands and placing them in your lap.   
“When you became Fett’s girl, every being in this city’s criminal underworld did research on you.” His tone is blunt. “Everyone thought that you could be used against him.”

You purse your lips together. Your brow creases. You look away, towards the window. You opened the blinds on both of them to let some more light into the apartment. You look back. Din tilts his head ever so slightly to the side.

“You don’t like that.” He states plainly. 

“No.” You try to keep your smile at least neutral. “I don’t.”

Din studies you for a long moment. You wish you could see his face. You have a feeling that he’s got some of the best expressions. He looks at the window for a few seconds and then back to you. It’s clear he’s trying to figure something out, but you aren’t sure what exactly.

“I can respect that.” He finally speaks. “I would feel the same way if my reputation was defined by one person.” 

You blink. You try not to let your surprise show on your face. That’s not the entire reason that you don’t like to be called “Fett’s girl,” but that is part of it. Din is the first to acknowledge why you might not like it. A fuzzy feeling builds inside of you. Your soft smile is genuinely warm.

“Thank you. I-” You take a deep breath. “I worked hard for years to build my own reputation. I got where I am, was I guess, by myself. It bothers me when people call me that because it feels like they’re implying...” You gesture vaguely. Your eyes are beginning to water. Din nods, a silent understanding. Grogu turns to Din. He’s clearly eaten all of his fries. He makes a grabby hand motion, and Din picks him up wordlessly and places the child in his lap. Grogu babbles happily. That makes your smile a little bit bigger.

“There’s something more, isn’t there?” Din’s voice is soft. “You don’t have to tell me now, but I would like to know. Whenever you’re ready to tell me.” You get the sense from his halting speech that offering emotional comfort is not something that comes easy to him. You chuckle.

“It’ll be a while.” You respond. You look at Grogu. He has his toy in hand and is playing with it as he waits patiently. 

“I want you to represent me in my transactions.” Din watches as Grogu begins marching the small toy along his dad’s forearm. He’s making little noises as he does so. Grogu looks up at Din and smiles. Din’s posture shifts, shoulders dropping. You can tell he’s smiling back at the kid. He looks back up after a minute or two. “You know every organization in this city better than anyone else, and it would help me a lot. I’d compensate you accordingly.”

You raise an eyebrow and lean back in your chair. “Go on.” Your tone has a teasing lilt to it.

Din gives you a number. Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. What he was offering you was extraordinary. Certainly more than you thought you could make. “Din. I can’t.”

Is it not enough? I can offer you more.” He seems genuinely confused. You shake your head with a laugh.

“No. That’s not it at all. That’s too much. I can’t take that. You’ll be bankrupt.” You shake your head. “I really can’t.”

Din scoffs. “You’ll be more than worth it.” He pauses. He throws an arm over the top of your couch. You would bet your life’s savings that he’s got a sly smile on his face. “You haven’t even heard the rest of my offer.”

“There’s more?”

“Yes. This is more practical, but we’ll move you into a different building, A better one.” He looks around the place as he speaks. “Ideally some place with a doorman for extra security. You did well keeping this place safe, but you’ll become a bigger target again. I’ve got someone who can help with that.”

“You sound like you have lots of friends in lots of places.” Your smile is sly now. Din looks down, as if he’s almost embarrassed.

“I don’t go out actively looking for them. They just trust me because they know I’ll do right by them.” His voice is soft, gentle. 

“I know.” You lean forward slightly. “I didn’t think for a second you’d pay your way out of situations. Not unless you had to.”

Din shrugs. The small movement tells you quite a lot. He clears his throat after a second and straightens up again. “I’ll get you a car too. Maybe a motorcycle. The car would be better for safety reasons, but I also might need you to-” He stops. He’s looking at your chest. For a moment, you think that he might be looking down your shirt until you realize. The necklace had fallen out. You clear your throat and sit upright, trying to discreetly tuck the necklace back into your shirt. You’re hyper-aware of the cold metal of the signet on your skin.

“He gave you that?” Din’s voice isn’t accusatory. It’s more surprised than anything else. You aren’t sure if it’s because of the gift or because you kept it. You nod. You don’t trust yourself to speak. Shame and embarrassment threaten to heat up your face. You look away. “No. Don’t be embarrassed. It- It looks good on you.” Din stumbles over his words. You snort.

“Kind of funny for you to say another man’s signet looks good on your new employee.” You try to keep your voice steady. “Should I...?” You trail off. You’ve always thought about getting rid of it. It’s stupid for you to get bothered when people call you Fett’s, only for you to wear the signet on a chain around your neck. You look over to the couch. Din is shaking his head vehemently.

“No.” His voice is stern. “Keep it. You can’t get rid of it.” He says it with such authority. You nod.

“I don’t think I could anyway.” Your voice is soft and small.

The couch creaks. Grogu makes a noise of displeasure at the fact that his dad has moved. Din picks Grogu up and holds him to quiet him down. He’s quiet within seconds. You can feel Din thinking of what to do. You imagine this isn’t something he’s had to deal with before now.

“I’m going to have to ask someone about that.” He’s clearly thinking it through as he talks. “You can’t get rid of it, and I don’t want you to. It means a lot to you. As it should. I-” He stops. He looks at Grogu. He seems to be debating whether or not he wants to cover the kid’s ears. Din looks back at you. “You might. Keeping it on a necklace is fine. That’s good. I don’t want you to take it off.”

“But you also don’t want people getting the wrong impression from it.” You counter, raising an eyebrow.

“For both our sakes.”

“I know.” You look out the window. The whole conversation made you want the Earth to open up and swallow you whole, but it was also good. Something inside you was glad that Din was the only one who knew. Something in your gut told you that he’d do right by you. If that meant dealing with your obvious attachment, he would deal with it in the right way. Din lets out a sigh.

“I might have to give you one of my own.” It’s clear he’s talking more to himself than to you. “Fu- fudge.”Grogu squeals in delight at the mention of food. “We’ll get some on the way home, bud.” Din looks up at you. “I’ll have to talk to one of my Elders to see what to do, but I. We might have to give you a version of mine and just.” He takes a deep breath. “We’ll figure it out. It’s not that big of a deal. I just wasn’t expecting that.”

You have to bite down hard on your tongue. It clearly was a big deal. You can’t tell if Din is trying to convince himself or you that it wasn’t.

“So.” You decide to get his mind off the current problem. “You said something about a car?”

*************************************************************************************************************

Honestly, you don’t have to do much negotiating with Din. What he offers you is way too much in your opinion, and you argue with him about that. He brushes it off everytime. You get the feeling the more you dig your heels in about it being too much, the more he’s going to give you. It’s weirdly nice. Part of you is suspicious. A larger part of you is glad that someone is finally starting to see your actual worth. The thought makes those fuzzy feelings return. He stays even after the negotiations are done just to talk with you. You suspect he only left because Grogu was getting impatient. 

“I put you up in a hotel room for several nights.” Din tells you, lingering in the doorway. “I don’t think you should stay here. It would be until I can find an appropriate place.”

You chuckle, pushing a strand of your hair back behind your ear. “Din. You’ve already given me too much as it is. You don’t need to do that.”

“It’s for your safety.” His tone is serious. “News spreads fast around the city. I wouldn’t be surprised if the word got out already.”

You want to argue with him. No one would try and kill you before you’d even started to work for him. The sinking feeling in your stomach doesn’t agree with that assessment. You look at him. His aura is serious. That makes the awful sensation grow stronger. You hate to admit it, but he’s probably right. You close your eyes.

_”Never underestimate a threatened man, mesh’la.” Boba Fett takes the knife from your trembling hands. You stare unseeingly at the body on the floor. Your chest rises and falls, soundless sobs threatening to spill. Boba wipes the blade clean on the dead man’s clothes. When he holds it back out to you, you don’t miss the fact that he’s holding the handle towards you.. “A threatened man is a dangerous one.”_

You take a deep breath. You open your eyes. Din’s visor is trained on your face. He might be wondering where you went. You lift your chin.

“Yes. I’ll... I’ll go to a hotel.” Your voice is soft. “Let me just pack some of my things.”

“I’ll help.” Grogu makes a noise of irritation from his position on his dad’s shoulder. Din looks at him. “Your Auntie Cara is coming to get you, don’t worry. You’ll get to go home.” His voice is thick with amusement. Grogu shakes his head. “What, you don’t want to go home?”

Grogu tugs on the leather of Din’s outfit. You can hear the smile in Din’s voice. “I can’t go with you. I’ll be home not long after you, though.” He presses his forehead to Grogu’s. He mumbles something to the little boy, but you can’t hear it. You decide to let them have their moment and go into your bedroom in search of a bag. You aren’t sure what exactly you need, so you start by throwing some of your clothes in the bag. You’ve got underwear, shirts, pants, and pajamas all thrown into a bag when you hear voices out in the hall. You peak around the corner and place the bag down close to the door

Your eyes widen. Cara Dune is talking to Din, holding Grogu as she does. The child is clearly excited to see her, babbling away at her.

The newly elected Sheriff was at your door. You blink and shake your head. You aren’t sure what to do, so you cautiously step out from your bedroom. Din turns his head. Grogu looks in the direction that his dad is.

“Cara. I want you to meet my new friend.” The way he stresses friend isn’t lost on you. He introduces you, and you step forward. 

“Nice to meet you.” You hold out your hand. Cara shifts Grogu so she can accept the handshake. 

“You’re the one that Din has been chasing after.” She notes. Your eyes widen again. You whirl around to look at Din. Din coughs into his hand, clearly embarrassed. Cara rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry. Working on recruiting.”

That makes you snort. “I wasn’t expecting someone like you coming by.” You smile shyly at her. “I would have made some coffee or something. I kept a close watch on your appointment.”

“For your old job or because you liked me as a candidate?” She fires back.

“Both, but mostly the latter.” You scrunch up your face. Cara laughs at that. It at least sounds amused. She pats Din’s shoulder and leans in to whisper something to him. His posture changes, and you swear, his face has to beet red. You at least assume it is.

“It was nice to meet you.” She says after she turns away from Din.

“”You as well.”

“I have a feeling we’ll get to know each other real well.” She starts heading towards the stairs and stops. “Hey. Good call on taking up Din on his offer. I think it was the right one.”

Before you can say anything else, she’s disappeared down the stairs. You can hear Grogu babbling on with her occasional response. You look at Din.

“Isn’t it dangerous for you to be seen with her?” You question as the two of you go back into your apartment. Din lets out a noise of consideration.

“No. People know that I helped her catch a couple criminals.” He responds after several seconds. “Not many people know of what I do.”

“Point taken.” You go back into your room. “I’ve got mo-” Something on the rooftop across the road caught your eye. Din looks at you. Something red passes over your far wall.

“Get down!” Both you and Din yell the other at the same time. Both of you hit the floor at the same time. You cover your face with your arms reflexively. The glass in the window shatters as a bullet blows straight through it. None of the bits and pieces hit your face because of your arms. You instantly scramble to your bag and grab it. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Din hisses. You hit the deck again as another bullet blows past. 

“It was close enough!” You snap. “Let’s go!” 

You can hear the sound of sirens starting to blare. Another shot rings out, shattering the glass in the other window. Din is quick to make it to his feet, using the doorway as cover. You hear yelling and screaming. You hear sirens, these ones fainter, in the distance. You get up as quick as you can. Both of you rush to the door. The yelling and screaming grows louder. Neither of you stop, running out into the hall and down the stairs. You hear neighbors moving. Someone opens their door, and as soon as they see you and Din running past, quickly shut it. Someone in another apartment is on the phone. You can hear the yelling from outside. Both of you take the stairs down several at a time. 

You stop Din right before the two of you get to the lobby.

“Do you think they’ll have the back covered?” Din looks at you and then at the door.

“Front would be safer. Cara is out there.”

“Great.” The two of you enter the lobby and duck around the nearest corner. You can’t see much through the front door, but you do see a cop car out front. Din nods. You make a run for it just as people start truly catching on to what’s happening. Din grabs your wrist so the two of you aren’t separated as you get outside. The sirens are loud, overwhelmingly so. You can hear Cara yelling as she chases the suspect.

“Grogu.” You look at Din. Din has clearly already thought of that. You see a cop hiding behind the car, Grogu in his hands. The child is unharmed but wailing. Din runs over to him. You can’t hear what he’s telling the cop, but the cop gives him Grogu before sprinting after the suspect as well. Din holds Grogu tight. You dive beside the two of them.

“Side alley. Now.” You pull away from him.

“They want me.” You hiss. “Get the bike started.”

“But-”

“Do it!” Your tone leaves no room for argument. Din takes off around the corner, holding Grogu tight. You stayed pressed against the cop car. A shot whizzes by your ear, and you curse. You roll towards the building. The bullet hole in the cop car is right beside your head. The noise of a motorcycle starting up catches your attention. You run around the corner just as Din finally gets it going. You jump on the back of it. You see Grogu in the side car. You wrap your arm around Din.

“Go!”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

************************************************************************************************************

You hiss as Din rubs the disinfectant cloth over your forearms. The pieces that had made it into your skin were small. Thankfully, you only had a couple long, thick scratches from the broken glass. Din looks up at you.

“I’m fine.” You spit out from between gritted teeth. “Just hurts.”

Grogu makes a noise from by your side. As soon as the three of you had gotten to the hotel and in your room, Din had begun looking at you to make sure you were alright. Grogu had hopped up on the bed beside you. He had taken your pinky in his little hand and squeezed, clearly mimicking someone holding his hand when he was hurt. 

Din gets out the gauze and silently wraps your forearms. 

“There.” He intones. “All better.” You can tell he says it out of habit. His shoulder stiffens as he realizes what he said. He nearly curls all the way in on himself. You try not to smile. Grogu makes another noise. You both look at him.

“Kees!”

Din shakes his head. “No, Grogu. She’s an adult. I don’t need to kiss it better.”

“Kees.” Grogu insists. He kicks his feet. Din shakes his head again. Grogu huffs. Before you can really comprehend what’s going on, Grogu tugs on your pinky. You move your hand towards him. He looks at the bandage before pressing his forehead against the wounds. Din chuckles softly. When Grogu lifts up his forehead, he looks at you expectantly. You look to Din. The confusion must be evident on his face.

“He kissed it better.”

“Thank you, Grogu.” You grin at the child. He nods and beams. 

A knock on the door causes all three of you to nearly jump. Din puts a finger of his visor before silently standing up and making his way to the door.

“Open up. It’s us.” An oddly familiar voice filters through the door. You frown. Where do you know that voice? 

Din opens the door. Two figures come in, and Din shuts the door. One of them is Cara, which you expected. Cara has a stack of files in her arms that he puts on the table. The other you didn’t expect at all. The man doesn’t pay attention to you, swooping Grogu up before turning to you. When the man looks at you, recognition clicks for both of you.

“Greef Karga.” You chuckle. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I could say the same for you.” He retorts. He claps you on the back with his free hand. “I haven’t seen you in a long time!”

“My old bosses sequestered me for a bit.” You counter. You gesture for Greef to take a seat beside you. He does.

“Old bosses?’ He looks to you and then to Din. “You mean Mando finally got you to work for him?”

Din clears his throat. You chuckle and nod. Cara puts a hand on Din’s shoulder and whispers something to him. 

“We’ll be back.” Din’s tone sobers up quickly. The two of them walk outside. 

“When did this happen?” Greef asks, motioning towards outside with his head. Grogu chirps. “Yes, I missed you too.”

“Just today.” You respond. “And apparently some people didn’t like it.”

Greef’s expression gets serious. “I heard. I’m glad you both got out of there alive.”

“Yeah.” You sigh. Everything is starting to hit you. “Me too. I think they would have been fine.”

“You think they were after you?” Greef adjusts Grogu in his arms. You nod.

“They didn’t get shot in the alleyway.” You point out. Greef sucks in a bunch of air and hisses.

“That’s a fairly good indication it was you they were after.” He admits. “Do you think your bosses did it?”

You shrug. “No idea. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

The door opens again. Din and Cara step inside.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice.” Din’s words are clearly directed at Greef. “I don’t need you to stay with him long.”

“It’s no problem at all, Mando.” Greef stands up. “And take as long as you need. The little ankle biter shouldn’t be here for this.”

Din nods. “My room is the next one over.” He hands Greef the keycard. 

Greef nods and heads towards the door. He stops in the doorway. “It was good to see you. I wish it was under better circumstances.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

The door shuts with a ‘click’ behind him. Cara uncross her arms.

“You’ve got to tell me who you royally pissed off.” She goes over to the table and takes a seat. “They sent three snipers after you.”

“Three?” You raise your eyebrows. “I don’t understand. I imagine my old bosses aren’t happy, but they wouldn’t send three.”

“They did.” Din leans against the wall. Cara takes two of the files and slides them your way. She says two names. “Both of them were on the rooftop across the street.”

You stomach churns. You don’t need to look at the files. “Yeah. Both of them are company snipers.” You whisper. “Did you at least catch them?”

Cara and Din exchange a look. Cara slides the third one your way. “No, but they’re in custody.” You tilt your head in confusion. “They’re in the morgue.”

“What?” Cara nods.

“Both shot right between the eyes.” She looks at you. “I can tell you three shots came from the roof of your apartment building. The two that killed these men, and the one in the side of the squad car.”

“Who’s the third sniper?” The churning in your gut becomes more violent. Din sighs.

“Fennec Shand is the third sniper.” His voice is low, monotone.

You have the sudden urge to vomit. You put your hands over your face. Cara leans forward in her seat.

“Why would someone have Fennec Shand protecting you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *winks* You know who sent her


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning for discussion of human trafficking! It's not depicted but is talked about. Quick cw for descriptions of a panic attack as well

You stare wordlessly at Cara. So many questions are running through your mind, but you can’t seem to vocalize any of them. Cara raises an eyebrow at you.

“Well?” She demands, tone thick with impatience. Din sighs and moves away from the wall. He comes over to sit beside you.

“We need to know so I can protect you.” His tone is soft and earnest. “I can’t do that if I don’t know who else might be involved in this.”

You swallow hard. The lump in your throat gets bigger and bigger with every passing second to the point where you’re not sure if you can breath. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest. You look at Din with wide eyes. You try to will your mouth to open. He can clearly sense your distress. He puts a hand on your shoulder. The soft yet hesitant touch brings your heart rate down, and you feel as if you can breath again. You look at Cara. You clear your throat.

“I don’t know.” You suck in a deep breath. Cara shifts, leaning forward even more. Her elbows are nearly resting on her knees. Her eyes narrow. She clearly doesn’t like the answer. You know you need to clarify quickly. “Last I heard she was working for Bib Fortuna. He took over the trafficking trade and part of the drug trade after Jabba died, but. They wouldn’t protect me or try to kill me. They wouldn’t profit from either one.”

“Why’s that?” Cara leans back in the chair, throwing one leg over the other. 

“I never dealt with the Hutts.” You try to keep disdain out of your voice. Din makes a noise of confusion. You look at him.

“You dealt with Boba.” His voice is halting, as if he’s afraid the name will bring up something. Out of the corner of your eye, you see both of Cara’s eyebrows shoot into her hairline. 

“I dealt with him because he was the best. I only ever contracted him for bounties or assassinations, I think maybe a handful of other things.” A wave of tiredness washes over you. You close your eyes for a second and take another deep breath. “I never dealt with traffickers. The company had to hire someone specifically for that because I- I can’t. I wouldn’t even work with some of the escort services if I got the feeling that any of the girls were sold to that company.”

_”You don’t deal with the Hutts.” Boba states. You can hear a silent question underneath his words. You take a deep breath._

_”I don’t deal with traffickers.” You fall silent for a second as you try to find the right words. You know you don’t owe him, but it would be a gesture of good faith to tell him why you don’t deal with them. You clear your throat. “I knew someone in high school who met someone. Online. She thought that she had found someone who understood her. It. It turned out to be a trafficking scam.” Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. You have to clear your throat again and look at your cup. “They know it was because when her parents went to the police, they traced it back to a man who... He was under suspicion for trafficking. They raided his place, but he must have moved them. They couldn’t find any evidence he was even involved. No one knows what happened to her.” You stare down at your drink for a long moment. You’re afraid if you speak, your voice will crack. Boba Fett is silent for a long moment. You don’t mind it. It helps you get your thoughts together._

_”I heard your company’s other man is working next week.” You blink before letting out a short laugh. You aren’t sure what this has to do with the current topic, but you know that it has to be related somehow._

_”Yeah. It’s my birthday next week, so I’m taking the week off. I haven’t had a vacation in God knows how long.” You tilt your head. “Why?”_

_Boba stares at you. You know that his expression would be unreadable without the helmet. He stands up suddenly and stops beside you. “He’s incompetent. I don’t work with incompetent people.” He walks away before you can fully process his words._

Your voice cracks towards the end. Din moves, putting his arm around your shoulder. It’s awkward, as he’s clearly unsure if this is the right thing to do. You smile softly at him. His arm drapes more naturally over your shoulder at that. Cara is giving you an indecipherable look from her place.

“You dealt with Boba Fett?” Her voice is incredulous. Her eyes dart to Din, and he nods. Her lips purse together. “You picked a dangerous girl to chase.” 

“She’s the best at what she does.” Din defends. Cara gives him an unimpressed look.

“You do realize that Boba Fett would hunt you down to the ends of the Earth?” She questions. “Din. I never met him, but everything I’ve heard about him tells me that you’d be dead for making a move.”

You scrunch up your face at her phrasing but don’t say anything. Din’s arm around you tightens protectively.

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to him.” You finally speak up. Both look at you. You can feel the shock radiating from him. “He wouldn't be allowed to just up and disappear and then expect me to stick around.”

Din makes a noise in the back of his throat. He seems almost embarrassed. “That’s... that’s very kind of you. Thank you.”

Cara watches the two of you. She seems to know more than she’s letting on, and you aren’t sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.

“Fennec must work for someone else.” The thought hits you like a bolt of lightning. “Someone else has to have sent her. I know that might not help, but it’s better than nothing. You could always talk to Bib Fortuna and see if he’ll give her up.”

Cara nods as she considers the idea. “You might be on to something.”

“Cara shouldn’t do it.” Both of you look to the Mandalorian. His posture stiffens. “You have to do it. Fortuna won’t talk to a cop. It’s not a deal, so you should be okay.”

You fall silent. 

“If you do it, I want Fennec brought into my interrogation room.” The chair creaks as Cara leans forward again. “I’ve lost some people because of her.”

“Of course.” Cara turns to you. She clearly wants to know if you’re on board. You let out a sigh.

“I’ll do it.” You nod. That seems to satisfy the new Sheriff. She stands up slowly. Din does as well. You note he seems almost reluctant to move his arm away from you. The two of them stare at each other. You get the sense that they’re communicating solely through looks and, in Din’s case, body language. When Cara heads towards the door, Din follows. It’s obvious that she wants to speak with Din alone and outside. The door shuts softly behind them.

You lay back on the bed. You have a feeling you won’t be able to sleep tonight. The events of the day weigh heavily on you. You just got shot at in your apartment. You thought that you had been careful, but you clearly weren’t careful enough. You thought that your old bosses would let you just walk out of there without a fight. You snort. Why did you expect that? They worked with criminals for God’s sake, and you were the one to broker most of the transactions. Of course they weren’t going to let you leave. All of that didn’t even cover the fact that Fennec Shand was sent to protect you.

An unpleasant feeling begins to build in your stomach. You can’t tell if you’re going to be sick or not. You can only think of one person who would hire Shand for such a job, but it couldn’t be. He was dead. You never saw a body, but he had to be dead. No one could survive an explosion in a chemical warehouse. Nevertheless, a zing of excitement goes through your entire body. If he was alive, he was laying low for a reason. You hate him and miss him. He broke your heart into tiny little pieces, but you still loved him. The cool metal of his signet against your skin is proof of that. 

Five years. It had been five years.

Five years since you’d seen him or touched him or kissed him. Five years of pining, of waiting, of hoping the rumors weren’t true. Of course when you had finally given up hope, that’s when he would decide to come back. You realize that you’re crying. It starts soft, but it quickly becomes hiccuping sobs. How could you miss him? You hate that you do, hate that you are still hung up on him. That wasn’t the plan. None of it was. You just wanted insurance, and it wasn’t long before he had wormed his way under your skin. 

You know that you did the same to him.

_”Mine.” He growled, sucking dark marks into the soft skin of your neck._

_”All mine.” He’d repeat, leaving teeth marks and bruises in his wake._

Almost every time the two of you had sex, he had been quick to remind you of who exactly you belonged to. He even made you tell him so many times that you instantly knew to tell him that you were his when he came to you with the air about him. You knew telling him that spared lives because some poor soul had looked at you for too long. 

You don’t hear the click of the door. You do hear Din coming into the room, though. He nearly slams it shut as he races over to you. He instantly is by your side. He brushes your hair back from your forehead. 

“Are you hurt?” He asks, the panic evident in his voice. You shake your head, unable to form words. You cry harder at the small gesture. Din gets on the bed and pulls you close to him.

“Sssh.” He scoots up the bed so you can relax on his chest. You bury your head into the leather to hide your tears. “It’s okay, sweet girl. I’m not going to let anyone or anything hurt you. I’ve got you. You’re my sweet girl. I’ll never let anyone harm you again.”

Din’s kind words and soft tone made you sobs come harder and faster. They’re silent, though. He makes a distressed noise as he rubs your back.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re safe. You’ll be safe with me. My sweet girl is going to be safe with me.” He practically coos. You curl even more into him. It’d be soon long since someone had been so sweet and caring towards you, and him touching you was almost too much to bear. The phrase touch-starved comes to mind. That set you off again, the sobs coming even harder. Your whole body is shaking. Din murmurs to you, sweet words about how he’ll protect you and how you’re his sweet girl. You don’t think he’s even aware of what he’s calling you. Somehow that makes the gesture even more soft.

***************************************************************************************

You wake up to something warm underneath you. When you groan, it flexes and moves. You blink groggily. What exactly could it be? You go over the events of the day, and you bolt upright. Din moves, clearly startled at how fast you moved.

“I’m so sorry.” You begin gushing. “I totally didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. I’m truly sorry, oh my God.”

Din reaches out and places a hand on your arm. “It’s okay.” His voice is thick with sleep. “I would have moved you if I needed to.”

You pause. “Did you get Grogu?”

“I thought he might want to stay with Uncle Karga.” His tone is dry. “You needed me more.”

“Din, you didn’t have to stay with me. I would have been fine.” You argue. Din shakes his head.

“You needed me.” He repeats. He rubs his thumb gently over your arm. “It’s okay. I like- I don’t mind being needed. By you.”

“I-” You swallow hard. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” You run your tongue over your bottom teeth in thought. “Go get Grogu. I’m sure he misses you.”

Din nods. He moves off the bed and leaves the room. You stumble into the bathroom. You look a mess, red and puffy eyes. Your eyeliner has streaked down your face. Your hair is all kinds of wild. You groan. You should probably shower, but you think you should warn Din first. You sigh and turn on the faucet. While you wait for the water to heat up, you look for a bar of soap. It was better than washing your face with nothing. Once you’ve finished, you hear the door creak open. You poke your head out of the bathroom. Din’s got Grogu in his arms. The toddler looks sleepy still. As soon as Din lays him down on the bed, he rolls over and promptly falls asleep. That makes you smile. Din looks at you.

“Are you- Do you feel better?” You nod.

“Yeah, I do, actually.” You start finger combing your hair in some attempt to make it look presentable. “I really appreciate you staying with me.”

“You’re welcome.” He intones. You let out a shaky sigh.

“I need to shower.” You make your way out into the main room to grab your bag. Din nods. 

“I can go get breakfast.” He offers.

“You can stay, but I wouldn’t mind breakfast.” 

You swear that his face has to turn red as soon as you tell him he can stay. He clears his throat. “I’ll go get food.” He gently picks up Grogu. “So you don’t have to worry about him. He likes to cause trouble.” Din nearly scuttles out of the room. That makes you snort.

The shower is long and luxuriating. Since it’s a hotel, you don’t feel the need to check the water. Not that you could anyway. A thought occurs to you, and you frown. Your stuff. What was going to happen with all of your things in the apartment? Some of it probably has to go into evidence, but when could you collect it? When could you even go by and see the extent of the damage? You let your head hit the wall. The thud echoes in the space for a second. You take a deep breath. It would be fine, it would all be fine. 

Din’s got you. Everything was going to be okay.

That thought sends a delicious tingle, starting from the bottom of your spine and working its way up. It lights your inside up in a wonderful way. The fire is further fueled by the nickname. 

Sweet girl.

It was intimate, which is something that you’d been craving for so long. Five years was a long time to be alone. You probably could have found someone if you wanted to, but you were in mourning for over half of that time. You also knew that most people couldn’t compare. Even if they could, it just felt wrong. Boba had made it quite clear that you were his and his alone, and it felt like a betrayal of his memory to even think about getting involved with someone else. 

For whatever reason, that didn’t extend to Din.

You swallow hard and shut your eyes. You bang your head lightly on the wall. 

“Focus.” You growl. You couldn’t go down that path. You wanted to, but you shouldn’t. At another juncture, you might pursue it, but right now? That would be getting in too deep too quickly. It would cloud your judgement about business deals, and you needed to keep a clear head. You can’t let something like that happen, not again. You can’t even be sure that his affection was genuine at this point. It could be a ploy to make you more malleable. 

You remember the way he spoke to you. It was sweet and soft and caring. The nickname had hints of reverence to it. The only time his tone became something different was when he told you no one would hurt you. It had gained a steely edge to it. 

You shake your head. You can’t be sure of anything at this juncture. He could have very well chosen to call you that because he knew it would calm you down. It probably meant nothing.

You needed it to mean nothing.

You finish your shower. You take your time getting ready. You’ve just gotten dressed and are working on your hair when the door opens. You poke your head around the bathroom door. The smell of food wafts towards you, and your stomach rumbles in response. Din sets the bag of food down on the table and throws two more down on the floor. You step out of the bathroom after doing one last check of your hair. It would have to do for now. A chair scrapes against the floor as Din pulls it out for Grogu. He deposits the toddler into the chair neatly before turning back to you. You smile softly at him. 

“Was traffic bad?” You make your way over to the table. Din shakes his head.

“No, it wasn’t. Thought you might want some time to yourself, so I bought a couple things you might need.” He rubs the back of his neck, right at the small gap between his motorcycle suit and his helmet. “I wasn’t sure what all you got packed, so I guessed.”

“Thank you.” You pull out a chair opposite him and sit down. “You’re so sweet. How the he- How in the world did you end up with your job?”

Din looks away, curling towards himself ever so slightly. “I’m not sweet. I’m just nice to people who deserve it.” He clears his throat before opening the bag and distributing the food.

“And people who aren’t?” You tease. Din’s shoulders stiffen. Oh. That was interesting.

“I deal with them accordingly.” He states slowly as he unwraps Grogu’s breakfast. The child makes pleased noises and grabby hands. You tilt your head and make a small noise of consideration. You wet your lips.

“Is there anyone you...” You struggle to find the right words. “Is there anyone you haven’t dealt with yet? Because they’re more useful alive?”

Din makes a noise and hands you a breakfast sandwich. He slides a coffee across the table as well. You thank him and begin unwrapping your food. He’s silent for several moments, intent on making sure that Grogu doesn’t eat too fast or take too big of a bite. You take a large sip of your coffee, watching him.

“Bo-Katan.” He finally responds. “I have to do business with her, so I keep my peace. Once she’s no longer useful...” He trails off. You chuckle softly.

“I never dealt with her. I was benched when she started to come back on the scene, but I. I heard stories.” 

Din’s shoulders are close to his ears now. You could swear for a second that a deep displeased noise, almost like a growl, came from him. 

“She thinks everything in this city is rightfully hers.” He bites out. “They call her Princess for a reason.”

Oh. You kind of like this side of Din. Something about a seemingly docile man getting angry sends a thrill through you. 

“So. You just have to remind her that she’s a Princess and not a Queen.” You shrug. 

“If only it were that simple.” Din grumbles. You raise an eyebrow.

“Go on.”

“There’s...” He huffs. “There’s several big hold-outs. Bib Fortuna is one of them. He refuses to ally himself with me or Bo-Katan. Ahsoka Tano is a wild card. She’s worked with Bo-Katan a lot in the past, but she’s also worked with me. The other one that worries me is Special Agent Gideon. He’s one of the higher ups in the FBI office here.”

Your eyes narrow. “I know the name. I never dealt with the man, but I know the name.”

Din turns his head towards you. “You do?”

“My old job used to work with that office.” You chew slowly. “We ran an account under the name of Anakin Skywalker.”

You wait for the name recognition. Nothing comes from Din. Instead, he tilts his head to the side. You let out a snort. 

“Special Agent Vader.” You look at Din. This time, you get a visible reaction. He snaps to attention. Even through this visor, you can feel the intensity of his gaze.

“You handled things for Vader?” You nod.

“Yeah. I never worked with him, but I met him a couple times.” You swallow hard. One of the meetings hadn’t been a particularly pleasant one. The man had been paranoid, and for good reason. You honestly consider yourself lucky that you have never been dragged into a ‘special meeting’. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. You were made to sit in on one of those ‘special meetings’ early on, but you weren’t the one being ‘questioned’. The demonstration had a clear message of what exactly would happen to you if anything you handled on his account were to be either messed up or leaked. The memory nearly makes you gag.

Thank God for Boba Fett. You can’t imagine what it would have been like if you hadn’t been able to talk to someone after what you saw. You still had the occasional nightmare from it, but you know it would have been much worse if you had to deal with it by yourself. You look up from your food. Din’s helmet is trained on you.

“Do you think they still have the files?” It’s clear what he’s thinking. You snort.

“Hell yeah they do. Just because Vader and the Senator are dead doesn’t mean their group is. They’re zealots, and the company knows that zealots make them money.” You try your best to meet his gaze through the visor. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Those files would be very useful.” Din nods. “Do you think there’s anything in there that could make Agent Gideon give up his claim?”

You lean back in your chair and smirk. “I don’t think so. I know so.”

Din seems inordinately pleased. Grogu looks at him, and he ruffles the kid’s hair affectionately. “We can’t do it right away, but it’s a good start. Your old company is going to be wary that you might try something like that, so they’ll be on alert.” He hums softly to himself. You lean back in your chair.

“We can always pretend that me working for you didn’t work out.” You point out. “It’d be easy enough to fake.”

“No.” He shakes his head vehemently. You raise your eyebrows, blinking. “It will make things harder, but I’m not letting you go back to that company. Even if they hadn’t sent snipers after you, I wouldn’t let you go back.” His voice is nearly a growl, making his words seem as if they come from a territorial place. 

“Alright. I won’t do it myself.” You can’t help your smile. It’s oddly endearing how protective he is of you now. You take the last bites of your food and chew for a second, thinking. If you weren’t going to do it, then how exactly would you be able to get that information?

“I know someone who can get us in.” Din sounds as if he’s about to elaborate, but Grogu interrupts him. The child babbles and points to the sippy cup on the table. Din’s shoulders drop, and he carefully picks the cup up and hands it to Grogu. He keeps his hand underneath it to keep it steady until Grogu gets a good hold on it. “Don’t drink it too fast. You don’t want to hurt your tummy.”

You try to hide your smile by taking a long drink of your coffee. You can hear guzzling.

“Alright, give it here.” Din’s voice is stern. Grogu makes a noise of abject horror. “Yes. You’re going to make yourself sick. Give it here.”

“No!” Grogu shakes his head. Din sighs. You put down your coffee cup.

“Grogu.” The child looks at you. “Can I see your cup? I like that design on the side.”

He stares at you for a long moment, clearly trying to determine if it’s a trick or not. He holds it out to you. You take it carefully and examine the sides. “Oh, is that a tiger? I like tigers! Do you?”

Grogu makes a noise and begins babbling. You hand the cup over to Din. You must have a confused look on your face because Din explains. “He likes tigers, but his favorite is rhinos. I don’t know why.”

The child nods sagely. Din reaches into one of the bags and produces a toy. Grogu takes it with a happy squeal. You watch him for a second, a fond smile on your face. You look up and see Din is staring at you. You blink, and he ducks his head. You snort softly. You don’t want to ruin the moment, but you know that there’s more business that needs to be done. You sigh.

“My apartment.” You begin hesitantly. “What’s the situation there?”

“Cara is going to release what she can back to you, but a lot of it has to stay there or in evidence.” Din’s sigh mirrors yours. He watches Grogu for a moment. “I’ve been putting feelers out for a place for you to stay. It might make sense for you to stay with me for a little bit instead of a hotel. I don’t trust security here.”

You consider his words for a second. The offer is generous. You nod. “I’d like that.” Your voice is soft. You had considered the hotel situation as well. It would be hard to find you in a hotel but not impossible. Din’s place would have guaranteed security. You look at him. “Only until we can get a place of my own.” Your tone is teasing. Din nods too quickly.

“Of course.” He sounds flustered at the thought of you staying with him permanently. You take another long swig of your coffee to hide your smile. He clears his throat. “We’ll probably have to get you new furniture and the like. If you want to do matching decor, you can. Just name whatever you want.”

“You don’t have to do all of this. I’m already working for you.” 

“I know. I want to.” His tone brokers no argument.

*************************************************************************************************

Din takes you back to his place not long after that. You think something scared him because he wanted to move soon after looking out the window at the parking lot. You have no idea what to expect. You imagine he’s living in a one bedroom apartment that’s small but comfortable. You aren’t expecting him to pull into the driveway of a small house. Once he’s parked the bike, you gently slide off of it. 

“This isn’t what I was expecting.” You help Grogu out of the sidecar while Din disembarks. He makes an amused sound.

“I lived in an apartment for a while. I wanted to move somewhere more stable for Grogu.” He goes to the side door and unlocks it. You put Grogu down, and he runs into the house with a cheer. Din slips inside and disables the security system. You come in behind him. The side door led into a kitchen. You can see the living room and the hallway. Grogu toddles his way down the hall, making you smile. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

“I like it.” It feels very homey. You shut the door behind you and meander further into the house. Din motions for you to follow him. 

“I didn’t think I’d have guests.” He explains sheepishly. “You can sleep in my room. I’ll take the couch.”

“I’m not going to do that.” You give him a look. “Yes, I know, I’m your guest, but I’m not going to do that. We can share.”

The two of you have made it into the hallway. Grogu is waiting outside of his door. Din opens it for him, and the small child makes his way into it. “Don’t mess up your room!” He reminds his kid. He leaves the door open as the two of you walk down the hallway.

“If you’re sure.” His voice is soft. You sense some hesitancy in his tone.

“You sound like you have a practical objection.” 

“I can’t take my helmet off in front of anyone.” He clears his throat. “It’s so I can’t be easily identified.”

“Did you- Did you sleep in your helmet last night?” You blink. He nods. You slap his upper arm. “Din! You could have just told me not to look and taken it off!”

“I didn’t want to take that risk.” He sounds almost pained. You let out a sigh.

“Okay. In that case, I’m taking the sofa, and you’re taking your bed. And don’t argue with me. I don’t want you being uncomfortable.” Din looks to the ground.

“I can stand sleeping in it.” He offers.

“No. You’re sleeping in your own bed by yourself so you don’t have to wear your helmet.” You cross your arms over your chest. Din huffs.

“You’re my guest.” He tries to argue. 

You let out a sigh. “Tell you what. Let’s table this for now and revisit it closer to time.”

He hesitates for a second before nodding. He turns around and heads back into the kitchen, you trailing behind him. He sits at the kitchen table. “Cara will be here soon to give us an update.”

“Good.” You look at the ceiling for a second. “Do you have any work I can get started on? I need some sort of distraction.” He clearly knows what exactly you need a distraction from. He pads into the living room. You hear rattling, and he comes back with a Bankers box filled with files.

“Take your pick.” His tone is dry. You nod and begin rifling through them. You pause for a second.

“Din.”

“Hmmm?”

“Is there... What would be the most useful in terms of settling this dispute with Bo-Katan?” 

He’s silent for a long moment. “If you want to talk to Ahsoka Tano, she might be a good place to start. She has history with Bo-Katan, so I wouldn’t expect much.”

“I’ll work on that.” You begin looking for the info Din might have on her. “Are you okay if I see if Bib Fortuna can tell me about Fennec Shand? I want to get an idea of what we might be dealing with.”

“Of course.” He tilts his head slightly. “Would you like me to help?”

“Yes.” Your voice is small and meek. It wasn’t that Bib Fortuna scared you; you were just worried about if Fennec Shand might be there. Cara said it looked as if she was sent to protect you, but the woman also shot at you. The bullet nearly touched your ear. Although. You don’t think she missed on accident. It was a warning of some kind.

You spend the next several hours combing through files. You need to see if there was any information you didn’t know and commit it all to memory. Din floated in and out of the kitchen. He was clearly working on something of his own. He would come in briefly, claiming he needed water or Grogu wanted something to eat. You had a feeling he was checking on you, making sure that you were settling in alright. 

The situation is strange. It’s somewhere between professional and domestic. The biggest difference is that Din falls into the role of doting spouse while you take the bread winning position. The thought makes you snort. This feeling isn’t helped by the fact that Din is constantly taking care of his kid. That, and you swear you see him cleaning up around the house several times, as if he’s embarrassed of the state of his house. Grogu wanders in now and again, tugging on your pants to get your attention. He shows you a rock he found in the backyard, his favorite stuffed animal, and his art. He’s clearly proud of everything he shows you, and you make sure to heap praises on him.

It’s close to dinner time when your phone rings. Din is pulling out the things to make Grogu dinner. You had offered to help, but he staunchly refused. You pick it up. It’s an unknown number. You clear your throat and turn the screen towards your host. He sets aside the vegetables he’s chopping and comes over to the table.

“Speaker.” He says. You nod and pick it up, making sure that whomever it is on speaker.

“Hello?”

“You must be Din’s new ambassador.” An unfamiliar voice filters through. You look to Din. His hands curl into fists. “You should consider getting a new phone. Keeping this only one isn’t safe.”

“I’m sorry.” You muster your best polite and saccharinely sweet voice. “Who is this?”

“Bo-Katan.” Her voice is curt. “I’m merely calling to extend a welcome to the newest member of Din’s little clan. Or should I call him your sugar daddy? I have no doubt he’s doting on you already.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Din seething. 

“Bo-Katan.” You repeat. “Well. I wasn’t expecting this honor.” The way you stress the last word makes it clear that you don’t consider it an honor after all. “I’ll keep the phone thing in mind. Why did you really call?”

“I told you. To introduce myself.” She sounds bored, but you can tell that’s not the case. “I do hope to meet you soon. I’ve heard a lot about you. Tell me. Was one Mandalorian not enough? Is that why you had to move on to another one?”

You lean back in your chair. “You sound jealous that I didn’t pick you, Princess.” God. You sound so much like Boba Fett right now. You look at Din and wink. He’s got his hands pressed over his helmet about where his mouth probably is. You can’t tell if he’s still getting over her earlier remark or if it’s him trying to not say anything.

“Clever.” She says the word in a way that indicates she doesn’t think it is.

“If you don’t have anything else on your mind, I do have to go. I look forward to meeting you in person.” You hang up before she can respond. You look to Din. You’re curious to see if he approved of how you handled that.

“I’m not your sugar daddy. I’m your employer.” 

*****************************************************************************

“She called you a sugar daddy?” Cara’s voice is thick with amusement. Din grunts and crosses his arms over his chest. Cara had finally arrived after Grogu had been put to bed. She’d been held up at the station with a lot of paperwork from the shooting the other night.

“I’m not a sugar daddy.” He seems genuinely distressed. Cara snorts. You duck your head down so either of them can’t see the stupid grin that makes its way onto your face.

“II hate her as much as you do, but she does have a point.” Din whips his head around so fast you’re surprised he didn’t break his neck. You can’t help your choked laugh. Both Cara and Din look at you. Cara raises an eyebrow and looks at you expectantly. Din seems almost betrayed.

“I’m _not_ a sugar daddy.” You reach across the table and put a hand on Din’s arm briefly.

“I know that.” He visibly relaxes at your touch. His shoulder lower. You withdraw. “If you were my sugar daddy, you would have asked for something not work-related at this point.” His shoulders drop down even further. Something in his posture softens. 

“See? She agrees with me.”

“So as long as you don’t ask me to be your arm candy to some event, you’re not a sugar daddy.” Your tone is conversational, but your grin betrays you. Din nearly splutters. Cara lets out a short bark of laughter.

“I like you.” She nods her approval.. “It’s good to start keeping him honest now.”

“I’d have to offer to pay you if you went to the event with me.” Din points out. You chuckle as you look at him.

“Yes, which emphasises my point.” You can practically hear Din scrunch his face up. “Din. I feel like if anything could possibly inconvenience me in any way, you’ll offer to pay me for my time. So. As long as it’s just work-related, you’re not a sugar daddy.”

“She’s got you there.” Cara’s face is impassive, but you can tell she’s trying so hard to suppress her laughter. Din looks to the ceiling. You’re not sure if he’s looking for divine intervention or if he’s waiting for the ground to swallow him whole. 

“Would this be a bad time to point out I probably do need a new phone? With a new number?” You blink and use your sweet voice. Not the customer service or someone has annoyed type sweet, but the type that a sugar baby would use to get something. You emphasize this by fluttering your eyelashes. Cara puts a hand over her mouth. Her shoulders shake violently for a few seconds before she gets a hold of herself. Din lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“I’ll get you a new phone.” He’s clearly going for a dry tone, but it doesn’t quite get there. You can almost hear an implied ‘brat’ at the end. That makes Cara let out a choked off laugh. “Can we talk about what you found now?”

It impresses you how fast Cara is able to switch between genuinely enjoying herself and work mode. She straightens up in her chair. Her expression changes from amused to serious in the blink of an eye. She shifts, placing one calf over her other thigh.

“Nothing so far in the apartment.” She looks at you as she speaks. “We’re running ballistic samples to see if we can’t potentially pin-” You hold up your hand to stop her. She pauses and raises an eyebrow. You try to keep your movements slow and controlled. You pick up your phone and turn it off. You turn it over. Your hands are shaking. Din seems to know exactly what occurred to you, so he takes the phone.

“I need to take this somewhere before we do anything.” He murmurs. You nod and swallow. “I know someone who can dispose of it.” He looks to Cara. A silent exchange happens between the two of them. She nods, and Din leaves without a word. You hear the motorbike start up.

“I’m so stupid.” You breathe. The roar of the motorbike fades into the distance. “I thought that the snipers knew where I lived because of my paperwork. It didn’t even occur to me that they could have been tracking my phone or listening in that way. That was a rookie mistake.” You swallow hard.

_”How did you find me?” You tilt your head to the side. Boba turns from looking out your hotel window to look directly at you. “I never told you where I was going on vacation or what hotel I would be in. I made sure to book everything under a different name on the off chance someone might want to ruin my geta-way.” You place your bags to the side._

_”Do you think that’s why I’m here?” You can almost hear him raise an eyebrow. You shake your head._

_”No. If you wanted that, you would have made a move already.” You pad across the room to stand beside him. “Why are you here?”_

_”Phones have made my job a lot easier.” He says after a long moment of silence. The piece of advice weighs heavily on your mind for a second. You look at him. To your surprise, he’s looking at you. He holds out two pieces of paper, one of which is glossy and thicker than the other. You take them. You skim over the article. It’s about the man who kidnapped your friend and how he was found dead in his apartment. Not only that, years of evidence linking him to cases were found at the scene. The other page is a photo of the crime scene. It’s clean and neat, the work of a professional. You look up to Boba. He’s moved to stand in the doorway of your hotel room._

_”Boba, I-” You stop. You have no words. You weren’t even sure how he might react. “Thank you.” You whisper._

_”Don’t expect it to happen again.” With that, he walks out of the door. You clutch the two pieces of paper tight to your chest._

_”Happy birthday to me.” Your murmur softly to yourself before going to find your phone. You need to tell your friend’s mom the good news._

Cara brings you back by reaching across the table and touching your forearm briefly. You look up at her. “Hey. I didn’t even think about it, and I use GPS all the time to find perps. It’s okay.”

You nod and swallow hard. “So. What did you find?”

“We ran ballistics. We’re going to see if we can link the shootings to other ones, maybe talk with the DA about building a case.”

“Why?” You tilt your head slightly. “They’re dead, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Your old company tried to kill you.” Cara’s voice gains a deadly edge. “They need to know that they can’t touch you and if they try...” She trails off. You smile. It’s a soft one filled with gratitude.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me. You have no idea.” You rub the back of your neck. “Anything else?” It’s clear what you’re really asking about. Cara shakes her head.

“Sorry. Nothing. She’s a ghost.” She sighs. “If you really think Fortuna might tell you something, you’re going to have to talk to him.”

“He’s the only lead I have right now. No one has tried to kill me in so long, not since Boba died.” You stop, realizing what you said. You look at Cara.

“About that.” She regards you for a long moment. You realize that she’s sizing you up. “I don’t know what your arrangement with him was. I don’t care. Din isn’t him, and if I get any indication that you’re using him to replace Fett.” She smiles. It’s more teeth than anything else. You let out a soft chuckle.

“You don’t have to threaten me.” You keep your voice low. “Din is a good man. He’s been nothing but kind to me, and I don’t abuse kindness. I would never hurt him.” You exhale as you pick your next words carefully. “I wasn’t in it with Boba for money or prestige or fame. I genuinely loved the man with everything in my body. It was something so specific that I can’t copy or replace it, even if I wanted to. And trust me, I don’t want to. ”

Cara leans back and studies you for a long moment. “So long as we’re on the same page.”

“We are.” You snort. “Besides, I wouldn’t be able to replicate that feeling with Din. He’s not the right type.”

“Good.” Cara’s tone is blunt. It’s your turn to study her.

“This warning feels a little early, no?” You phrase your question carefully. “I thought threatening someone like that came when the two people looked like they might be getting involved with one another.”

“You’re living with him. I think this is the right time.”

***************************************************************************************************

You and Cara talk until Din comes back. The conversation between you two is terse but not bad. She relaxes a little bit more as the two of you swap stories. You don’t think she’ll ever trust you, but you think she might get the sense that you were being sincere when you told her you wouldn’t hurt Din. He’s out longer than you thought he would be. 

“Should I be afraid?” He asks from the kitchen doorway. Cara had just told you a story about one arrest that nearly had you rolling on the floor. You both look at him. He’s leaning against the doorway, and you swear he has to have a fond smile on his face. You really wish he didn’t wear the stupid helmet.

“What took you so long?” You ask. He closes the door behind him as he pads into the kitchen. 

“I had an errand to run.” He explains. He turns to Cara. “Thank you for watching over them. You can put it on my tab.”

“You’re racking up quite a tab.” She grumbles as she stands up slowly. 

“When we get you Shand, I think that should pay it off.” His voice is soft. You get up and clear the table while they exchange goodbyes. She waves to you as she slips outside. You turn to Din. He’s standing in the middle of the kitchen. One of his hands is in his pockets, and he seems to be fiddling with something.

“What’s up?” You ask.

“I talked to one of my Elders while I was out.” His voice is soft. “I needed advice.” You lean back against the corner.

“Oh? Did you get the advice you wanted?”

He shakes his head. “She wants to meet you to be sure she gave me the right advice. Are you okay with that?”

“Of course.” You nod. “Whatever you need or want. I owe you a lot.”

“Don’t. Don’t say it like that.”

“Why not?” You tilt your head.

“I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything. That you have a debt to me.” He takes several steps towards you. “A debt is a serious thing for my people.”

“I know. That was a big thing Boba taught me.” You stare at him for a long moment and cross your arms over your chest. “I trust you. I don’t think you’d abuse me owing a debt to you.”

He freezes. You think you see him shiver. “You shouldn’t.” 

“Why? You’re not going to hurt me.” You chuckle before stepping away from the counter. “I’m taking the couch for tonight, by the way. I’m not fighting you on this.”

“It’s not about that.” He speaks so softly you aren’t sure you heard him. Something dark and delicious lingers in his tone. He follows you into the living room. “You’re my guest. I can’t have that.”

“You can and you will. Now, where can I get some sheets?”

The two of you bickering over who’s sleeping in the living room and who’s in his bedroom. It clearly pains him that you aren’t taking his offer, but you keep on pointing out that he probably needs a break from the helmet. You even tell him that you can deal with Grogu if anything happens in the middle of the night. It starts off as a serious argument but devolves into a more fun one. Eventually, he concedes. He’s clearly not pleased about it.

You get ready for bed and crawl into it not long after Din retreats to his room. You aren’t sure if you’re going to fall asleep immediately or be wide awake. Normally, you wouldn’t be able to sleep in a different place, but you felt safe. If anything were to happen, Din wasn’t that far away. You suspect that he would know of any danger before you did. You were also processing the past two days, and that could go either way. You could be so wired and hyper-aware of everything that you can’t fall asleep, or you could just pass out because of sheer exhaustion.

It ends up being the former. You toss and turn for a little bit, but once you get comfortable, you’re out like a light.

You wake up early, though. The sunlight is just peeking through the curtains. That’s not what woke you up, though. For whatever reason, something feels wrong. You can’t put a name or reason to it. You huff and put your feet on the floor. You look to the coffee table where you’d put your purse.

Your heart leaps into your throat. You touch your neck, and your fingers come into contact with the metal chain you always keep on your person.

It takes all of your willpower to not scream.

You run down the hall and pound on Din’s door. He must be a light sleeper because it doesn’t take him long to answer the door. He’s clearly just finished putting his helmet on when he opens it. You suspect he heard you coming down the hall. He doesn’t question what it is, just lets you take his hand and lead him into the living room. You can’t talk right now. If you do, you don’t know what noise will leave your mouth. You point to your purse.

A beautiful moss green ribbon has been tied intricately around the handles. A metal signet hangs from it. 

Boba’s signet hangs from the beautiful moss green ribbon.

"Fuck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boba is the reason we can't have nice things


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief warnings for mentions of child murder. We don't see it, but it is talked about

As soon as Din’s eyes land on the signet, he’s pulling you close. You bury your head in the crook of his neck. Your arms wrap around him to pull him as close as he possibly can. Your breath is coming in quick bursts. Surely you’re hyperventilating. Your whole body trembles as you try not to sob. Once you start, you don’t think you’ll be able to stop. He rubs a soothing circle on your back. 

“It’s okay, sweet girl. Breathe.” He’s not looking at you. You can feel his gaze trained on the signet. His words are reassuring and tone the same as the other night, but something is different. You realize that he’s too stiff. You begin to think that you must have done something wrong. You go to pull away and apologize, but he holds you closer. His shoulders are high and tense, and the ones your face is buried into occasionally twitches. He’s not mad at you but for you. 

A noise makes both of you spin. It’s coming from Grogu’s room. You nearly laugh with relief when you hear him make a noise. You disengage from Din.

“Go.” You swallow. “Go check on him. I’ll... I don’t know. I’ll make coffee or something.”

“Are you...?” He trails off lamely. He watches you for a second. He’s clearly trying to gauge if you’ll be okay with him getting Grogu. You nod. “Don’t make coffee. It’ll make your anxiety worse. Get water.” He turns towards Grogu’s door.

You stand in the hall and wrap your arms around yourself. Din opens the door and steps inside. Grogu’s happy greeting makes you smile despite the situation. He’s clearly excited to see his dad. 

“Yes, good morning to you too.” Din’s voice floats into the hallway. His voice is cheerful. To your surprise, there’s no relief in his voice. It’s almost as if he knew Grogu would be safe. “I didn’t expect you to be up yet. How’d you sleep?”

You opt to give them their moment. Hesitantly, you go back into the living room. Your purse is sitting on the table. The ribbon almost looks like a snake to you, like a moss green pit viper. You keep to the edges of the living room as you make your way to the kitchen. It’s stupid and silly to be that scared of an inanimate object. Well, it’s not the object that you’re afraid of as it is the clear message. The problem is that you don’t know which one of you the message is for. If it had been just for you, the ribbon would have been enough. If it had been for Din, it would have been put on his bike or his doorknob, not on your purse. It must be for both of you, and that thought ties your stomach is all kinds of knots. 

You make it into the kitchen without incident. 

You pad over to one of the cabinets and grab a glass of water. Your hands are trembling so bad you nearly can’t pick up the glass. You pause. Din and Grogu’s voices float from the hallway towards you. That sound brings your heart rate down some. You’re not alone. You’re not alone in this house. That makes everything a little bit better. You take the glass and fill it up with water. Your throat is bone dry, but you don’t think you can drink. The lump in your throat makes you think that you’d choke if you tried. 

You place the glass beside the kitchen sink. The porcelain is cold under your hands. The small window above the kitchen sink has no curtains, so you can see out into the backyard. It’s entirely surrounded by a privacy fence. You can’t tell if the slats haven’t been painted yet or Din was going to simply stain the wood. An image of him working out in the yard appears in your mind. Din works on painting the fence while Grogu tries to help, only to end up splattering paint everywhere. The image makes your heart feel fuzzy. 

You shake your head. He probably was too busy to do it himself and would have someone else do it. 

The small patio has a cloth awning above it. Several deck chairs are scattered about on the concrete. A metal object is out there, and it takes you a moment to realize it’s one of those portable fire pits. Beyond that, you can see a playset towards the back of the yard. That makes you smile. Grogu probably isn’t quite big enough yet to play on it by himself, but you can still easily imagine him swinging from it and giggling as he does so. Something tells you that Grogu would be the kid who would swing as high as he can before jumping off of it. Din would have a heart attack.

The feeling of someone tugging on your sleep pants makes you look down. Grogu looks up at you expectantly.

“Good morning, little man.” You squat down so you’re at eye level with him. “How’d you sleep?”

He babbles. Din’s voice comes from somewhere near the door. “He says he slept well.”

“Good! I’m glad!” You brush a stray strand of hair out of his face. “Did you have any dreams?”

The child pauses before shaking his head. Din ambles past you to start making coffee. Grogu tilts his head for a second, clearly eying you. He then looks up at Din and starts speaking. Din sighs.

“He said he heard you running and that’s what woke him up. He wants to know if you had a nightmare.” He looks at you. “Don’t tell him about...” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to scare him.”

“I won’t.” Your voice is soft. You turn back to Grogu. “I did have a nightmare. It was about an old friend that I haven’t seen in a long time. It’s okay, though, because I know your dad will protect me from them.”

Grogu stares at you for a long moment before nodding. You can’t tell if he believes you or not. He then makes his way over to one of the chairs where he begins climbing up into it. You can’t help your soft smile as you stand up slowly. The coffee maker begins to bubble. Din holds something out to you. You realize it’s the glass of water. You take it, and he makes his way over to the table.

“What do you think about spending the day with Ms. Motto, huh?” Din sits across from his son at the table. Grogu nods excitedly. You come over to the table as well. You stand there for a second, unsure of which one to take. To your surprise, Grogu decides for you, tapping the table at the spot right between him and Din. You nod.

“Wise choice, Master Grogu.” You intone as you pull the chair out. Grogu lets out a squeal of delight. Din’s head hits the table. That makes both you and the kid chuckle. You take a long sip of your water. It surprises you how much being around Din calms you. You’re still scared, but the fear is nowhere near as intense when you’re with him. Din lifts his head up enough to look at you, and you’re sure the glare would kill you if you could see it. You merely smile at him. 

The coffee maker beeps. Both you and Din stand up at the same time.

“I’ll get it.”

You both stare at each other for a second. You narrow your eyes. You’re sure he does the same in return.

“You’ve been really nice to me. Let me get it.”

“You’re my guest.” He counters.

“I’ve already put you through enough trouble.”

“It’s no trouble. Sit down.”

“What are you going to do if I don’t” You jut your chin out. “Spank me?’

“I might just.” It’s so soft that you barely catch it, but you do. You stare at him for a long second. He looks back at you, as if challenging you to ask what he said.

“Fine.” You huff, sitting back down. Din nods. He’s more than a little bit pleased. He pads past you towards the coffee pot. You can hear him rummaging around for a coffee cup in the cabinets. You turn your attention to Grogu. The child has his head tilted. You think he’s trying to understand what just happened. 

You keep Grogu entertained so Din can make breakfast. You’re not ready to talk about what happened yet. Playing with Grogu is a nice distraction. He seems to enjoy your company. You can tell because the amount of side eye you get decreases the longer you spend time with him. When the three of you start eating, Din explains the plan.

“I called Peli earlier, so she’s watching Grogu today.” He lifts up the visor just enough to eat and holds it in place. You look the other way on the off chance he reveals too much of his face by accident. You can tell he appreciates it. Something in his inflection and tone tells you as much. “There should be security footage. I’ve asked Cara to request it, so we’ll go see what’s on it then.”

“We need to look for an apartment for me. Ideally one that I can move into soon. The sooner the better” You point out, stabbing viciously at your pancakes. You pause and sigh. “That came out worse than I meant it to. I just-” You swallow hard. You don’t know how to tell him that the longer you stay with him, the more danger he’ll be in. You don’t know who exactly put the signet on your purse, but you know that they clearly have allied themself with Boba. That raises a whole bunch of questions that you’re not sure you want to think about right now. For instance, why would anyone ally themselves with a dead man? No one would, which then begs the question that you don’t want to think about right now. Since you don’t want to think about it, it weighs heavily on your mind.

If he’s alive, then why would he leave you? For five years he left you alone, letting you think that he was dead, and the minute that you might be opening yourself up to someone, he makes his presence known? Your nostrils flare as you try to control your breathing. A gentle hand on your shoulder brings you back.

“Hey.” Din’s voice is gentle. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out, okay?” He seems to have more he wants to say but thinks better of it. You nod. Your shoulders drop some. His concern doesn’t quell your rage, but it does help you see through it. You let out a long breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“We’ll figure it out.”

**********************************************************************************************************

Peli Motto runs a mechanic’s shop outside of town. It’s one of those places that screams “last stop” for a while. It’s actually in a completely different town, one that hasn’t been swallowed up by suburbia. You don’t think it will be. Most people don’t go this way to get to the next big city. Her little auto shop is really along the backroads. She must have heard the motorbike coming from a distance because she’s outside when the three of you pull up. She holds open her arms, and Din wordlessly gives her Grogu.

“Hey there little guy! How have you been?” Grogu chatters excitedly in response. She grins at him and looks at Din. She must see you leaning on the bike because she stops and stares at you.

“Who’s the girl?” Her tone is inherently suspicious. You greet her.

“She’s a new employee.” Din says by way of explanation. Peli’s eyes narrow.

“Oh? What do you do?”

“I’m negotiating deals for him.” The words slip easily off your tongue. Peli makes a face but nods. You can tell she doesn’t exactly trust you, but she’s giving you a chance since you’re with Din. The two of them talk briefly. You don’t listen to them. You wouldn’t be able to pay attention to their conversation anyway. Your brain is so scattered right now. It’s all you can do to hold yourself together. Din comes back after a moment.

“You ready?” You nod and wordlessly get on the bike behind him. He speeds off. You expect him to head back right away, but instead, he takes you a different direction. You blink when you see the sign for a park. He pulls the motorbike into the almost deserted parking lot and turns off the ignition. You slip off the back of the bike and look at him.

“I thought we were going to see Cara.”

“We will.” He nods. “I want to talk first.” Normally, those words would fill you with some sort of dread. It makes sense that he would want to talk about everything, so it doesn’t come as a surprise. You just weren’t expecting to do so out in the middle of nowhere. 

“Okay. Lead the way, then.” Din looks at the various trails before deciding on one. He starts down it, and you follow after him. You catch up to him quickly. The two of you walk side by side in silence for several minutes. The trail takes you around the visitor’s center and towards some outcrops of rocks. You bump into him playfully, tired of the silence. Even underneath his helmet, you can tell he raised an eyebrow at you.

“So. What did you want to talk about?” You try to keep your tone light and airy. You don’t want him to know just how scared you are. You aren’t sure why; he clearly has an idea from your reaction this morning. He lets out a long sigh.

“I know that the signet was a message for both of us.” He begins, his speech halting as he tries to find the right words. “But I. I’m not sure you having your own apartment is a good idea.” You open your mouth to argue, but he holds up a hand. “I failed to protect you last night, I acknowledge that. But I would feel safer if you’re close to me so I can redeem myself.”

“But, what about Grogu? What about yourself?” You swallow. “I can’t put either of you in danger, Din. I’m so sorry, but I just can’t.”

“Fett wouldn’t hurt Grogu.” Din’s voice is surprisingly steady. He speaks with such conviction. “Grogu is a Foundling, and we prioritize all children, Foundling or biological. This is the Way.”

_You sit down at the table without much preamble. Boba is already there. He stares at you for a long moment. Normally, you’d meet his gaze and open up with some small talk, but you just don’t have it in you today. Your shoulders sag. The impassive helmet tilts._

_”Rough night?” It would seem like a taunt to most people, but you know better. You can hear a note of concern tinge his gravelly voice. You look at him._

_”Yeah.” Your voice is soft. Something in it is threatening to crack, so you clear your throat. “I’m having one of those days. I’ll be fine.” You reach into your purse and pull out the file your bosses wanted you to pass along at this meeting. You slide it across the table. This meeting was meant to be business, not one where you got assurances. The lines between the two were becoming more and more blurred. You might even say some of the meetings were for pleasure instead of business, given how fond you’ve grown of him. You think he’s fond of you too._

_Boba doesn’t pick it up. His visor stays trained on your face. You stare back at him. The silence seems to stretch on for a while before you finally cave. You let out a long sigh and run a hand over your face._

_”Lamtur. The other guy.” You pause for a second. You close your eyes. “I don’t know exactly what happened, but one of the guys that Lamtur dealt with. Turns out Lamtur signed us on with a child killer. I don’t know if Lamtur knew and just didn’t care or if he was so desperate to get another person signed on, but that shouldn’t have happened. I know that we deal with a lot of people who do morally reprehensible things, but this is.” You take a deep breath. “This is a whole different ball game. There’s no reason to do that at all, which means it had to be for fun, and I just.” You can feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You look down. You can’t speak anymore._

_Boba stares at you for a long moment. You can feel his gaze, but you don’t meet it. It’s so hard to not cry. The worst part of it was that even though it was Lamtur’s mistake, you were sure that the company was going to find a way to blame you for it. Everyone knew that would never let something like that happen. A lot of your superiors didn’t like that you held some sort of moral integrity._

_Boba swears. It’s not in a language you understand. It’s easy to figure out what it means. The words are said just loud enough to where you can hear them. The venomous way he spits them sets your teeth on edge. You let out a chuckle, but there’s no humor in it._

_”Yeah. Same.” You intone. You rub your forehead. A splitting headache is threatening to develop. “How much would I have to pay you to kill both of them?” The words are meant to be funny. Your humorous intent doesn’t reach them, and it’s clear just how much you mean them._

_”Nothing.” Boba’s response makes you look at him. “I would do it for free. Both of them.” Something hard and mean seeps into his tone. You huff._

_”Well, as much as I love a two for one deal, I can’t have you kill Lamtur. Wish I could, though.” You take a deep breath. “I’ll just have a nice little chat with him.” You smile, and it’s more teeth than anything else._

_”Don’t leave any bruises. They’re proof.”_

You nod. That all made sense now. Of course Grogu would be fine. He wasn’t after Grogu; he had no problem with the child at all. Even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to hurt a kid. 

“What about you, though?” Your voice is soft and meek. “I can’t let you do that. I’m not worth that.”

“Don’t.” Din shakes his head violently. “I wouldn’t have gone looking for you if I thought that you wouldn’t be worth it.”

That makes you pause. “What do you mean by that? He’s dead, and people don’t support dead men.”

Din snorts softly in response. “Boba Fett was more than a man to a lot of people.”

The two of you walk again. It’s clear the two of you aren’t walking for fun or for health. The two of you are walking to have a conversation where no one else could hear. It might be considered romantic in any other context. Two people walking just to enjoy each other’s company. You let out a long breath.

“I’m scared, Din. Not just for me, but for you. I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt because of me.” It’s hard to fight off the tears. “I don’t think Boba would have anyone hurt me. You? He would do it in a heartbeat. He’s killed men for looking at me for too long.”

“Mesh-” He stops himself short. “I know how to defend myself. I can handle it.”

You shake your head violently. “You don’t get it!” The panic in your voice rises. “I was his everything, Din. He would stop at nothing to make sure that no one could take me away from him!”

Din turns to you. He places a hand on each of your shoulders. You realize you’re trembling, tears streaming down your face. God. You didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve his kindness. 

“I’m not going to let you deal with this on your own.” His voice is a deep rumble. “I told you, I was going to protect you. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be alright.” He hesitates. You take his non-verbal cue and pull him into a hug. You try to communicate your fears and worries in the single gesture. He returns it. He pulls you even closer to him. The two of you stay like that for a long time.

“Tell you what.” You pull away from Din. “I’ll stay with you until we’re sure it’s safe for me to be on my own. Is that okay? I can’t put you out by staying at your place forever.”

“That works.”

**********************************************************************************************************

Cara pulls up the security footage. She doesn’t say a word. Her jaw is set, which tells you it can’t be good. The two of you watch the video on the tablet. It’s from the side door of Din’s house. A dark figure walks up to the door. When she gets close to the door, you have to swallow to prevent your noise of distress. It’s Fennec Shand. She pulls out a lock pick and works on the door. It swings open, and she slips inside. Nothing occurs for several minutes. You guess that must be when she tied the ribbon to your bag. She exits. 

She stops on her way out and winks at the camera before slipping away into the darkness.

You swear you hear a primal noise come from Din. It almost sounds like a growl. The thought makes a pleasant tingle light up your insides.

“At least we know who she’s working for now.” Cara’s tone is dry. She’s scrutinizing you. You can’t tell if she’s sizing you up or trying to figure out why someone would go to all this trouble. “You need to tell me the nature of your relationship with Boba Fett.”

You scrunch up your face in confusion. You had told her already that you and Boba had been together, so why was she asking? Did she need more details? You close your eyes and sigh.

“We were romantically involved.” You keep your voice steady and even. 

“Did you ever break up?” Her tone is blunt. You shake your head.

“No. He died in that chemical explosion. Or I thought he died. That tends to end a relationship.” As you speak, you feel a coil of anger from earlier beginning to build. How could he do this to you? Your lips twitch. You want to believe that he’s still dead. If he wasn’t, then what was the point of those five years? Your nostrils flare.You mull over Din’s offer from earlier. You didn’t want him to get hurt, but also, if Boba Fett thought that he could just waltz right back into your life, he was a fool and an idiot. 

You aren’t sure if your anger is that obvious or if Din can read you like a book already. Hesitantly, he reaches out and places a hand on your arm. You can hear the silent message reminding you to breath and that everything was going to be okay.

“A body was never recovered from the explosion.” Cara sets the tablet down on her desk and leans back in her chair. “He could be alive. It’s doubtful but possible.”

“How big was the explosion?” Din looks at Cara. She hums thoughtfully.

“I can pull up the reports, but I was told it took out a whole block.” You nod.

“It was a whole block. The only reason that the Senator, Skywalker, and Solo survived was because they were far enough away that they were able to get out of the blast range quick enough.” You know the details of the case by heart. You had spent hours pouring over the reports and notes, trying to figure out if Boba survived or not. You actually learned quite a lot about explosions in the process. Din tilts his head.

“Depending on where he was, he might have survived.” You look at Din, confused. He shrugs. “It’s part of my job to know things like that.” You snort softly. Of course he would know something like that. 

“I can put a security detail outside of Din’s house until you get a new apartment..” Cara gently brings you back to the topic at hand. Din shakes his head.

“No security details.” His voice is firm. “I can’t have that.”

“Then I suggest getting a new apartment sooner than later.” 

It’s your turn to shake your head.

“No.” Your voice is steady and strong. Din looks at you. “Boba or whomever is pretending to be him is trying to scare me. I’m not going to let that happen. I’m not running, and I’m not hiding.” You see Din incline his head, the smallest of nods. Cara stares at the two of you.

“As long as you know what you’re doing.” It’s clear that she doesn’t approve of the plan. 

“I do.” Din’s voice is curt. It’s clear that the topic isn’t up for discussion or debate. You know that he’s figuring out how to make this work. It makes a part of your heart flutter. 

“How do we proceed?” You finally gather the courage to ask. “Fennec clearly wanted us to know who she’s working for, but that’s a problem. He’s not going to make it easy to find either of them.”

“I’ve heard some rumblings.” Din seems hesitant to speak. “I didn’t pay them much attention, but there’s been talk of Bib Fortuna losing his position soon.”

“He won’t make a deal.” Cara props her feet up on her desk. You nod. “You have nothing that you can offer him.”

“Cara’s right.” A thought occurs to you. You bite down on your lower lip in thought. “But. We can still make it work.”

Both of them turn to you. Cara raises an eyebrow. Din must know where you’re going because he shakes his head.

“Absolutely not.”

“Think about it.” You turn to face him fully. “You knock Bib Fortuna out of the game, you have a better foothold. And if you ally yourself with this new faction, they’ll surely help you with Bo-Katan.”

“What about you? I can’t put you into that kind of trouble.” That makes you snort.

“I’d be in that kind of trouble sooner or later. If we move now, it might make a difference down the line.”

“I can’t risk you doing that.”

“It’s not a risk!” You resist the urge to start pacing. “It will work, trust me! We can do it easily. Besides, do you really want Bo-Katan to have first crack at this?” You don’t tell him that Boba would never ally himself with Bo-Katan. Just from the way that she spoke on the phone, you know that Boba Fett would snap her neck like a twig if she even so much as looked at him funny. Din is clearly not happy about the idea. You can see the acceptance of it, though.

“Don’t put all of your eggs in one basket.” Cara’s voice makes both you and Din turn to face her at the same time. “Even if Ahsoka won’t join you, she might tell you something you can use.”

Din huffs. It almost sounds like a dragon exhaling smoke. “I don’t like it.” He turns to you. “If we do this, I’m coming with you to those meetings. I’m not leaving you alone with him.”

“We don’t even know it’s him.” You gently remind him. Din’s visor doesn’t turn away from you. You get the feeling his stare is disappointed. You turn to Cara. She shakes her head.

“You two need to have that conversation.” It’s clear that she’s not willing to get involved. Her office phone rings suddenly. You exit her office, Din trailing behind you. The two of you are silent until you get outside.

“Do you want to take another walk?” You ask cautiously when the two of you get to the bike. Din nods. It’s curt. His shoulders are still tense. He gets on the bike, and you climb on behind him. You make sure to keep as much distance as you can in case he needs his space.

The two of you stop at a different park on the way out of town. It’s closer to the city, so there’s trees planted in the area. You slide off the back of the back wordlessly. Din stays on it for a while before dismounting as well. The two of you pick a trail and begin walking. Since the park is closer, there’s an artificial lake. The trail takes the two of you past it.

“I know you don’t like the idea.” You’re the first to break the silence. “But it’s the best shot we have.” He’s silent, so you press on. “I know you’re worried about me being in danger, but I won’t be, especially not if you’re with me.”

Din exhales. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” You stop walking. “It’s clearly something personal.”

“I don’t.” He stops and clears his throat. “I don’t want you to go work for him.” He finishes the sentence lamely. You raise an eyebrow.

“Do you think that I would work for him?”

“He’s probably got more to offer.” Din’s voice is quiet. “He knows you better than I do. He might use that to his advantage.”

You snort. A fond smile makes its way onto your lips. Din’s visor trains on your face.

“Din.” You chuckle and shake your head. “I’m not going to work for him. Trust me. There’s nothing that he could say or do right now that would make me do that.” You take a deep breath. “Five years. If this is really him, he left me. Alone. For five fucking years. He let me think he was dead for five goddamn years! There is nothing that he can do to get me to go back to him. I don’t care what he does.”

Din looks at you for a long moment. “Is that why you want it to be someone else doing this?”

“He left me. He let me think he was dead.” Your words are a snarl. “For five fucking years, five years of my life that I can’t get back! I mourned him for five goddamn fucking years!” You don’t realize your shouting until then. You’re shaking. Din watches you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. Hesitantly, he steps towards you. He tilts his head as he regards you for a long second.

“Keep that anger.” He eventually says. “You might need it.”

You nod. You swallow hard. Din begins walking again. After a few seconds, you follow him. You end up walking side by side once again. You can tell Din is thinking, mulling the situations over and trying to figure out what exactly to do. You imagine his face is scrunched up in thought. The two of you walk for a little bit longer before doubling back around toward the bike. 

“I have a plan.” He finally states. “Let’s get Grogu, and I’ll tell you over dinner.”

***********************************************************************************************************

You keep Grogu entertained while Din attends to some matters, both domestic and business related. You’re pretty sure he calls the security company and then a locksmith to change the keys and get a deadbolt. You decide to take Grogu out into the backyard and to the swingset. Grogu enjoys sitting on your lap as you swing.

“Don’t go too high with him.” Din warned as you opened the back door. “He’ll throw up.”

You talk with Grogu. You’re beginning to parse out some of what he says. When he gets bored of swinging, he makes you stop and then goes over to a small sandbox nearby. You help him build things in the sand. When you don’t understand what he’s saying, you’ll draw a question mark in the sand. He responds with a drawing of his own. From what you can make out and what you think the pictures are, it sounded as if he had a fun day. Peli worked on some cars while Grogu watched for a bit, and then she let him watch TV. She apparently has two dogs and a cat that hang around the garage, so he had fun playing with them. Well. He had fun playing with the dogs. You don’t think the cat had much to do with him. That didn’t seem to bother him.

“Dinner.” Din tells you, nearly making you jump. You weren’t even aware that Din was behind you. Grogu sees that and laughs. “No, I’m not going to scare her again.” Din moves past you to scoop his child up neatly. The three of you make your way back inside, Grogu happily telling Din what he told you. 

Dinner is nice. You enjoy the atmosphere. It feels natural and welcoming. It’s downright domestic, an island where none of the outside world can disturb the three of you. You imagine that anyone who tried to do anything during dinner would not be treated kindly. The only blip comes after dinner is done. You have to argue with Din to at least let you do something to help out around the house. You bicker over it for a bit before deciding that Din can give Grogu a bath while you clean up the kitchen.

You try to focus on the task at hand and not the impending nightfall. You know for a fact that you won’t be able to sleep tonight. You shake your head. You can’t think about that right now. It’s too early to start wondering and worrying. You do what you can to focus. Once you’ve finished cleaning the kitchen, you decide to straighten up the living room while you wait. You make sure to lock the side door and set the alarm before you leave. You need to do it yourself.

Eventually, Din comes back into the living room. You heard him herd Grogu to bed and tuck him in after the bath. You smile softly at him. You imagine that he has to be tired. He takes a seat in the recliner, and you take a seat on the sofa.

“I have your first official assignment.” He doesn’t prop up his feet yet. “The account you told me about the other day.”

“Yes.” You nod. “I remember it.”

“I know a hacker named Mayfield. He knows a lot of the company systems around here. You’ll meet with him tomorrow about it.” He gives you the location and time.

You blink. The name sounded familiar. You weren’t sure where you had heard it, though. You nod. “Alright. Is this you collecting a debt or is he going to ask for something in exchange?”

“He’s out on parole right now. We can make him disappear entirely. He might can start a new life in a new city.”

“I’ll offer him that.” You nod. The name is still bugging you for some reason. You could have sworn you heard it around the office. “Is the plan to deal with Agent Gideon first, or are we just collecting information on him?”

“I don’t know yet.” Din hangs his head slightly. “I want to be prepared for any move we might have to make.”

“When do you want me to try and meet with Ahsoka?” You tuck your legs under you. “Even if I don’t get her to join our side, I can gain information about Bo-Katan from her. Being able to get people to tell me their secrets is what landed me my old job in the first place. It makes it easier to make deals.”

Din is silent. He tilts his head to the side, clearly lost in thought. He exhales. “I’m not sure how much you can get, but I’ll let you set that up.”

You nod. You don’t know much about her, so you need to do some research before you set that up. You need to do some digging on Bo-Katan as well. You frown softly. It might not hurt to bring some extra cash to the meeting with Mayfield. He might be able to find things quicker than you.

Din opens the recliner. It snaps open, and he leans back in it. He shifts around for a second before finding a comfortable position.

“Comfy, are we?” You tease.

“Yes. I’m sleeping out here.” You open your mouth to argue but think better of it. This wasn’t some gesture he was making as your host; this was for your safety. He was genuinely worried about you. He turns his head slightly. You have no doubt that he’s got one eye open, watching you like a dragon. You realize he’s waiting for you to start arguing. After a moment, he turns his head back up towards the ceiling.

“Do you want a blanket?” You get to your feet. You folded up the blankets from last night and had put them on the end of the sofa since you were unsure of where they went. He shakes his head after a minute. You take that as a sign that he’ll get one when he wants one. You take the sheets you folded up and make yourself a bed before nestling into them. You can feel Din’s gaze on you, but he doesn’t say anything. 

********************************************************************************************************

_”So.” Lyra smiles mischievously at you. She fiddles with the straw umbrella in her drink. “Who is he?” You raise both of your eyebrows and give her a very confused look._

_”Who is what?”_

_”The mystery man you’ve been seeing.” She huffs and leans back in her chair, She places both of her hands on the table. “Don’t lie to me. You’ve always made sure that your work doesn’t take up all your time. So what department does he work in? Does he even work at the same company? Oh, are you engaging in a tryst with the enemy?”_

_”He’s not fr-” You stop. Your friend looks far too triumphant for your liking. She leans forward and smiles._

_”So he’s not from your work, huh? What else?”_

_”It’s not like that.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back in your chair. “I have to spend a lot of time working with him. What he does requires a lot of my input.”_

_”Oh, you have got it bad!” She nearly squeals._

_”No, I don’t. I have a healthy respect for what he does.” You sniff. “Before you ask, no. You can’t meet him.” The thought of Boba meeting Lyra makes a smile come to your face. That meeting would be interesting. You’re sure you would have a lot to answer after it was all over._

_You realize Lyra is staring. She’s got a sly smile on her face. “Not like that, huh?”_

_”I wasn’t thinking about him! I was thinking about how I’m going to get you back for this conversation.” She nods sympathetically, but her grin betrays her. You let out a growl. It’s clearly for show. She laughs at that._

_”Well, whenever you get over your denial, I’d like to meet him so I can talk to him.” She grins, taking the cherry from the top of her drink and popping it into her mouth._

_You can’t help your laugh at that. You shake your head, a grin making its way onto your face. “Oh, Lyra. I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’d make his day giving him the shovel talk. You’d probably make him laugh.” She puffs up, and you hold out a hand. “It’s not that he wouldn’t take you seriously, it’s just that I’m sure he hears worse on a daily basis.”_

_Lyra opens her mouth to argue with you, but someone calls your name before she can. You grimace. The voice sends a disgusting feeling along your spine. You feel like a wild cat puffing up when cornered. Lyra looks at you and raises an eyebrow. “Do you-”_

_”Hey!” Lamtur comes over to the table. He smiles. “I didn’t realize you were eating lunch here too! What a funny coincidence.” He takes one of the chairs and slides it out enough for him to take a seat. Lamtur’s gaze is focused on you. Lyra mimes vomiting. You raise one eyebrow a little bit to let her know you felt the same way. Lamtur looks from you to her._

_”Hi.” Lyra extends her hand. She smiles, and God. You wish that you could switch that easy when it came to personal relationships. It was easy to do when business was involved, but you were never able to master it when it came to social situations. “I’m Lyra, her friend.”_

_Lamtur takes her hand. For a second, you’re worried he’s going to kiss the back of it. Thank God he doesn’t. You would have actually thrown up. “Lamtur. We work together.” He nods over his shoulder towards you. He turns back around to face you. You try to school your face into something neutral. “Say. When are you going to let me come with you on one of your deals? I’d love to see you in action!”_

_”I don’t know.” You smile politely. “Some clients can be skittish, so more than one person might scare them. I’d have to have worked with them for a bit.”_

_”What about that mystery guy you meet every week? Surely he’d be okay if I tagged along.”_

_”No.” Your tone is harsher than you mean for it to be. Lamtur pulls back. You shake your head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s more... He’s very particular. Incredibly particular, actually, and he’s allowed to be because of how good he is.” You clear your throat. “He’s made it clear that he’ll only work with me.”_

_Lamtur smiles at you. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “No, yeah. I totally get it.”_

_”I think the M brothers might want to talk to us. You could maybe come along then?” You don’t want to make an offer like that. You know if you don’t that Lamtur will make your life a living hell. He perks up some._

_”Yeah! I’d actually like that!” He chirps. You don’t like it. Something about this interaction is nagging at the back of your mind. You look to Lyra. She’s a better judge of people’s intentions in social situations, especially when it comes to men. You can tell from the look on her face that Lamtur is up to something._

_”Keep in mind, they are fickle.” You warn. “Who knows if they will or not. It depends entirely on their moods.”_

_Lamtur nods. “Yeah, absolutely.” He stands up suddenly. “I’ve got to get back to my lunch, but it was good seeing you! Nice to meet you, Lyra!” He walks away before either of you can say anything. You stare at Lyra._

_”Is he trying to steal my job?” You break the silence first._

_”Maybe? I think he’s more interested in getting into your pants.” She gives you a meaningful look. You roll your eyes._

_”Yeah. Not happening.”_

_”Because your mystery man won’t like it?” She flutters her eyelashes. You snort._

_”Because I won’t like it.” You pause. “And yeah, my mystery man probably won’t either.”_

**************************************************************************************************

The smell of coffee wakes you up. You groan and roll over onto your side. You lay there for a second, debating whether or not you want to get up. Eventually, you open your eyes. You can see Din in the kitchen. Slowly, you sit up, and amble into the same room. Grogu chirps happily from his place at the table.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine.” You ruffle Grogu’s hair as you step into the kitchen. Din hands you a cup silently. You thank him and take a seat at the table. A small box is resting on it.

“Your new phone.” Din explains, sliding it towards you. “I got it the other night but had someone take a look at it to remove as much tracking software as they could. Cara dropped it off while you were asleep.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.” You look at the box. Your new number is scrawled on a post-it note on the front. You nod. You’ll need to start memorizing it soon. You take a long sip of your coffee before turning to Grogu. “How did you sleep?”

Grogu babbles. You take that to mean he slept well. You turn to Din. He nods before you can ask.

“The recliner isn’t uncomfortable.” He joins you at the table. “Your snoring is what kept me up.” He delivers that last line in such a deadpan manner that, for a second, you think he might be telling the truth. Grogu laughs. The little laugh tells you that Din isn’t being serious. That, and Din’s shoulders shake ever so slightly as he tries not to laugh.

“Is something funny, Master Grogu?” He giggles and shakes his head. He thinks he’s hiding his smile behind his sippy cup. You stare flatly at him for a long second. “Alright. I’ll trust you. This time.” He giggles as you turn away to look at Din.

“Other than my meeting, what’s on the agenda for the day?” 

“I need to talk with one of my Elders about our mutual friend.” He exhales. His fingers drum against the kitchen table briefly. “I need advice. I want you to meet her at some point but not yet.”

“Not yet?” You tilt your head. Din huffs.

“She’s suspicious with good reason.” He lets out a small, amused noise. “You’ll understand when you meet her.”

The last part feels like a reassurance. You smile softly. Your heart flutters. His helmet is trained on you, and you wonder if he’s got a matching smile on his face. God. You would give anything to see it. You shake your head, hoping to rid yourself of those thoughts. You take a sip of your coffee.

“Do you want me to watch Grogu while you go see her?” You wrap your hands around the cup. Din looks at Grogu for a second. 

“No. I’ll take him with me.” He’s clearly considering something. “I’m going to have Greef go out with you today. You need a new wardrobe, and he’s got a better eye than I do for that sort of thing. He can give you the lay of the land while you’re out.”

***********************************************************************************************

“So. The rumors are true.” Greef has got this shit-eating grin on his face. “Mando is your sugar daddy. I thought Cara was pulling my leg”

Din turns his head to look at Greef. Even through the helmet, it’s obvious that Din’s look is unimpressed. You snort.

“Don’t call him that. It hurts his delicate sensibilities.” You can’t help your playful ribbing. The helmet turns towards you. You smile and flutter your eyelashes. You have to bite down on a snarky retort. You’re pretty sure _Sorry, Daddy_ wouldn’t go over well. It might be worth it just for Greef’s reaction. 

“This is early payment for today’s meeting.” He tells you as he hands you a thick envelope. His voice is quiet, clearly not wanting to be heard. You don’t check how much is in it. You know it’s entirely too much. You go to argue. Din shakes his head in the smallest of gestures. You nod your understanding.

“Thank you.” You hope you convey how much this means to you. How much all of this means to you. Him letting you stay at his house, him calming you down as Boba makes his presence known, him getting you a new wardrobe. It all meant so much to you in a way that you don’t think you can put into words. Din nods. He pulls away from you.

“If you two get into trouble, I’ll have Cara double your bail.” He threatens. Greef snorts.

“Maybe mine, but I know you won’t hers.” Din levels him with another look before walking back to his motorbike. You make your way over to Greef. You were at his office. He ran a bail bonds company. It started initially as a front for him laundering money, but somehow, it became legitimate. He throws an arm around you as soon as you’re close enough.

“I’ve missed you.” He begins conversationally as he steers you towards his Buick.

“Would you believe it if I said I’ve missed you?” You counter. He lets you go so you can go to the passenger’s side and slip into the car.

“Not at all.” He tells you as soon as he gets in the car. You snort. 

“You’re always so cynical.” You can’t help teasing him. He rolls his eyes in response. He’s silent as he gets the two of you out onto the open road.

“I have actually missed you.” He begins conversationally. “Even before you left. When they benched you, they tried to make me work with Lamtur.” He makes a noise of disgust. You nod in agreement. “That man is a slimebag, and that is saying something coming from me.”

“Yeah. I never liked him.” You look out the window briefly. Greef snorts.

“I know. I was there when you found out about the deal he cut with that child killer.” He whistles softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite so angry.”

“Yeah. Angry is putting it mildly.” You shift in the seat. “I can’t believe they kept him on after that.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t have Fett kill him.” Greef fires back. You splutter. “Oh, come on. You had him wrapped around your finger by that point.”

“I did not!” He gives you a look.

“Trust me, you did, and everyone knew it but you two.” Greef chuckles softly to himself. “If you had asked him to jump, he would have done it. Not unlike another mandalorian we may know.” His gaze flicks to the rearview mirror, clearly looking at you in it. You huff.

“It’s not like that.” You aren’t sure if you’re trying to tell yourself or him. “D- Mando is just being nice. He’s helping me out.”

Greef makes a noise that tells you how much he doesn’t believe you. “And my mother is the Queen of England. But go on. If it makes your life easier, then who am I to judge?”

“He says, in a judging tone.”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to call it that.” He pauses. “I do have a question for you. Has Cara given you The Talk yet?”

“The one where she threatens to hurt me if I hurt Mando?” You let out an annoyed sigh. “...Yes.”

“I rest my case.” 

The two of you go back and forth the rest of the way to the mall. Part of it is reminiscing over old times and part of it is catching you up on things. You learn a lot. Bib Fortuna had dropped your old company because of how Lamtur handled the case. Apparently Lamtur had been currying favor with Jabba and that was the only reason the company managed to keep it for so long. Ahsoka was a wild card, and no one had seen her for a while. She used to be an agent but quit for an unknown reason. Greef didn’t know much about Bo-Katan, but he was working on finding things out.

“What about that Gideon guy?” You wrinkle your nose. Greef’s eyes flick to the mirror again. He clears his throat.

“Not much is known about him. He was in that big militia cult thing, the New Order, for a while, but he claims that it was for an assignment.” Greef snorts. You shake your head.

“Didn’t Vader endorse them?” You frown. Greef nods.

“They think he was an appointment by Vader.” He sighs. “Agent Gideon claims that he has no ties to it, but the department hasn’t been cracking down on the New Order since he took control. New Order my ass. More like the New Imperial Order.”

“I thought the New Order had died.” You frown. Greef pulls into the mall. “Well, I had hoped they had died.”

“We all did.” He kills the engine. He goes to get out, but you stop him.

“Before I forget. Wasn’t that...” You swallow hard. “Wasn’t that child killer a part of the New Order?”

“He was.” Greef frowns. “I’d like to shake the hand of whomever killed that bastard.”

You get out of the car. If Greef notices that you clearly know more than you’re letting on, he doesn’t say anything. 

You had counted the money in the car. It was honestly too much. You had made a note to give some back to Din whenever you saw him next. At least, that was the plan until Greef dragged you towards the Michael Kors.

“He gave you enough money for this. Live a little!” 

Din was right. Greef had an eye for this sort of thing. He helped talk you through what might work for you and what wouldn’t. It probably helped that he knew both Din and you very well. He knew what Din would expect anyone representing him to wear, and he knew how to help you get your own twist on it. You could tell that he wasn’t approaching this from the standpoint of how to get you laid. It was all about who you represented and how much power came from an outfit. The nicer you looked, the more power you had in a deal.

Well, it wasn’t all about that. Greef did stop you outside of a lingerie store. You raise an eyebrow. He grins in response.

“Go on.” He waves you towards the store. “Get yourself something nice for you and Mando.”

“I hate you.” You scoff. Despite yourself, you head inside the store. You look through the racks and eventually find several things to your liking. You try not to think about Greef’s words as you pay for the items. You try not to think about the fact that you bought a couple sets that were in Din’s colors. You try even harder to not think about the fact that one of the sets is a beautiful moss green.

You step out of the store. You see Greef sitting on a bench talking to a man. You frown. The man looked familiar. You aren’t sure if it’s because you’ve seen his face on TV or because you’ve seen him in real life. You make your way over to the pair. Greef looks up when he sees you.

“Ah! There she is.” Greef introduces you to his friend. “This is Han Solo. We used to run in similar circles.”

“We’ve met.” Both you and Han say at the same time. The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. You can tell Greef is delighted with this interaction. You have no doubt he knew that the two of you had met each other before.

“Sorry about your boyfriend.” The way Han says it makes it clear that he’s not at all. You smile. It’s just shy of being a nasty grin.

“Sorry about your little prison stint.” Han’s jaw twitches.

“You need to keep better company.” He turns to Greef. He pokes the other man in the chest. “She’ll turn you in for the fun of it, Karga. She wants to watch the world burn.”

Your lip twitches. Greef gives Han a shocked look. “I don’t believe that, even for a second.”

“It’s true. Mark my words.” Han protests as he stands up. He walks away quickly but not before making a gesture that indicates he’s watching you. You snort.

“I hate that man.” You turn to Greef. 

“I know you do.” He chuckles, throwing his arm back over the bench. “But I learned some valuable information from him, so you might hate him a little less.”

“Like what?”

“You’re not the only one getting threats. He doesn’t think that they’re coming from your man, mind you. I don’t think they are either. From what he told me, the threats are clearly from someone pretending to be Fett. I agree with him. They’re too sloppy.” He looks at you. His gaze softens some. “Han says he saw Fett die. I don’t know if you want that to be true or not, but I know one thing. That man had to have loved you more than anything in this world. If he is alive and hasn’t reached out until now, there’s a reason for it.”

You take a deep breath. “I know. I don’t like it, but I know.” You close your eyes. “I know.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warnings for attempted kidnapping, talks of kidnapping, and another description of a (mass) shooting

You don’t have much time before your meeting with Mayfield. You slip into one of the public restrooms and change quickly. Thankfully, the meeting was in the mall’s food court. You make your way to it. You find one of the booths close to the giant plants in the center. You wore a silver scarf. You didn’t have a better way to signal who you worked for, so the scarf had to do until you get something better. You idly play with your phone as you wait. Would he get you a signet? You know it wouldn’t have the same meaning as when Boba gave you his, but it still sends a delicious thrill up your spine.

The chair screeches as it’s pulled out. You look up.

Migs Mayfield is a squirrely looking man. He has a nervous energy about him, his eyes darting from side to side. He gives you the impression that he’d rather sell someone out than fight them. He’s bald and white, and something about him makes you think that he worked for the New Order at some point. Maybe not willingly, but he did. Maybe that’s why he could get you the files you need. For some reason, you swear you’ve seen him before. You just can’t place where. He leans forward. 

“You’re the new girl, huh?” He asks.

“I am.” You nod. Your gaze is cool and unwavering. Mayfield stares back at you for a long second. He leans back. His movements are quick, as he can’t decide what he wants to do. 

“You know, you’re a lot prettier than the last girl Mando ran with.” He throws his elbow over the back of the plastic chair. “She was hot in the dangerous kind of way, but that’s about all she had going for her. She had a weird relationship with her brother, though. Real strange.” He looks at you, clearly expecting some sort of visible reaction. “You know, I heard them going at it a couple times. She was a fucking freak, man.”

“I’m not here to discuss my employer’s love life.” Your tone is curt. “I have a job offer for you.”

Mayfield stares at you for a long moment. He leans forward again, placing his forearms on the table and clasping his hands in front of him. “You don’t strike me as the dangerous type. No offense. But what’s to stop someone from doing something to hurt you?”

You look away. You have to take a deep breath to prevent yourself from laughing. Oh, this Mayfield guy was obnoxious. He was the kind of guy that knew how to get under someone’s skin in under a minute and would use it to bother you until he got what he wanted. You look back at him and give him your most saccharine smile. .

“Migs. May I call you Migs?” He flinches at the use of his first name. You bite down on your cheek to keep your lips from curling into a self-satisfied smile. “I am here on behalf of my employer to make a deal. If you keep on bringing up things not relevant to the matter at hand, I’m just going to assume that you don’t want to do business with us.”

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. If it weren’t for the sounds of people in the food court and hissing from the grill of the nearby Philly Cheese Steak place, it would have been a tense silence. He leans back again.

“Just. Answer me one question. Indulge my curiosity.” 

“One, and that’s it.”

“What is to stop someone from hurting you to hurt Mando?” He gestures. “You really don’t seem like the dangerous type at all. I feel like you’d just... You know, cat fight slap someone.”

You stare at him for a long moment. You run through your possible answers. You could point out that working for a Mandalorian guaranteed you a certain level of protection. You could tell him that you knew your way around a gun. You could point out that you kept a knife on your person in case of situations like that. So many different answers ran through your head, and you weren’t sure which one to tell him. You were going to tell him the truth, but you didn’t know why he was asking. He could be asking to be noisy or for an assurance that you weren’t the weakest link. He could be asking because he planned to kidnap you. Your eyes dart around the food court for a second. No one seems too interested in the conversation between the two of you. Mayfield laughs.

“I’m not going to kidnap you. I considered it, but Mando would beat my fucking ass if I did.” He stares at you for a long moment. “Okay, okay, okay. I’ll tell you why I’m asking. Word on the street is that Mando got Fett’s girl to work for him. I want to know if you’re her.”

“How many are there?” Your tone is blunt.

“I’m sorry?” 

“How many are there, and where are they?” You stare at him. “You said _you_ weren’t going to kidnap me. The way you said it implies that there are other people waiting to do so.”

He stares at you for a long moment before letting out a raucous laugh. “Oh, shit. You are good.” Mayfield smiles. “That old flame of Mando’s kind of strong armed me into it. Know that I have nothing to do with the plan. Mando kinda threw her brother under the bus for a murder, and she ain’t too happy. She’s got a big guy waiting for you out those doors,” He jerks his head towards the food court exit, “Some weird skinny fucker who just. He gives me the creeps, man. He’s got these weird eyes, big ass fucking eyes. Too big for his head. He’s out that way,” He jerks his head towards the way that leads back into the mall, “And she’s waiting over there,” He jerks his head towards the restrooms, “in case you decide to take that side corridor to avoid the other two exits.”

You keep your eyes trained on his face. It takes all of your willpower to not let your eyes go in the directions he indicated. You let out a sigh.

“Tell you what.” You place a hand on the table. The other one goes to your lap. “How much do you want the answer to your question?”

He scrunches up his face. “I mean, not enough to die if that’s what you want.”

“That’s not what I’m going to ask. I’m not feeling like stabbing someone today. I want you to run a distraction so I can at least get a head start.” He begins to balk at the idea, but you hold a hand up. “I’m not done. You want this information that bad? That’s fine, but you’re going to earn it. Now, in addition to telling you, I won’t maim you. We need you alive to hack into this for us, after all.” You slide a flash drive across the table. “I want everything on a man named Gideon. If you do that, we can make you disappear for good. No one will ever find you.” You pull out a notecard with an address and a pick-up location. His eyes widen in understanding. “You don’t get this until we get what we want. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.” He nods. “Now tell me what I want to know.”

The hand in your lap shifts. 

“You can tell him.” Din’s voice filters over the speaker. Mayfield’s face goes sheet white. You grin. You’re finally able to let your expression turn truly nasty. You reach within your blouse and pull out the signet. Mayfield’s face gets even whiter, which you didn’t think was possible.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah. Oh, fuck is right.” You nod sagely.

“I’ll deal with Xi’an.” Din must be in the mall. You can hear noises in the background. “It’s me she wants.”

You look to Mayfield. “Bug guy or big guy?”

“Oh, bug guy.” Mayfield stands up, palming the flash drive as he does so. You follow suit and can see Greef doing the same. Mayfield holds out his hand, and you shake it. You hold his hand for a second.

“You’re not normally a hacker, are you?” You search his face. He grins.

“Took you long enough to figure it out.” He chuckles. “No, I just use what I know of our old bosses to profit. Nothing more than that.”

You let go of his hand. He was one of the company’s old snipers. You don’t know why it took you so long to place where you had seen him before today. You frown softly to yourself as you pick up your bags. It bothers you that you couldn’t place him right away. You used to know everyone who was anyone. Mayfield heads towards the rest of the mall. You hum softly to yourself. You figure you could go after him, but you aren’t sure how well that will work out in your favor. You head for the other door. Greef follows. You stop by one of the pillars next to eht exit. Greef comes over to you.

“From the look on your face, that didn’t go well.” You shake your head.

“He told me that someone had planned on kidnapping me.” You cross your arms over your chest. 

“Ah. So that’s why Mando texted me.” He shakes his head as he lets out a chuckle.

“Yeah. I called him as soon as I sat down because I wanted him to hear what was said. I’m glad it worked out the way it did.” 

A shot rings out. Both of you look up. It’s coming from the other entrance to the food court, the one that leads deeper into the mall. People look up. Another shot, and people scream, stampeding for the exit. You look to Greef. The two of you wait for the flood of people to hit the doors before slipping into as well. You grab Greef’s hand so the two of you don’t get separated in the crowd. You can see a large dude, practically 8’0” with bulging biceps, once the two of you get outside. He’s craning his neck. His attempts to see what’s going on are thwarted by the panicked crowd buffeting him. You hook a sharp left. Once the two of you are relatively free from the crowd, you let go of Greef’s hand. The two of you jog the rest of the way towards his Buick.

You think you figured out Mayfield’s distraction.

Another shot rings out. This one is much different. It sounds more like a shotgun. Both you and Greef duck. The large beefy man must have seen the two of you. Both of you scramble towards Greef’s Buick. The man is following both you, wading through the crowd like they’re nothing. You can hear sirens in the distance. Greef turns. You can see him go for his sidearm. You grab his arm.

“Let’s get to the car. Time to shoot later, yeah?” He pauses for a second and then nods. The two of you start flat out running to the Buick. Greef’s hands fumble with the keys as soon as you get to it. Another blast, this one hitting the post near Greef. He swears and nearly drops the keys. You hiss and drop your bags. You go for the knife that you keep strapped to your thigh. You haven’t had practice in a while, but if worst came to worst.

Another shot. Not a blast but a shot. The hulking man roars in pain and drops the shotgun. You can see that his hand is shredded, a bullet having gone straight through it. He tries to switch hands. That one gets a bullet in it as well. You don’t look to Greef. You know it isn’t him. He unlocks the car. You pick up your bags and toss them in the back. You’re just about to get in the passenger’s seat when a motorcycle skids to a stop beside you. Din is on it. He’s got blood on one of the arms of his suit.

“Get on.” He tells you. Greef looks at him. “It’s faster with me.”

You slam the door and jump onto the back of the motorcycle. Greef nods. He seems to understand whatever Din was trying to communicate. He fires up the Buick as Mando speeds away. You get what Mando means when you get towards the exits. Cops have already begun to swarm the place, blocking all of the exits out of the parking lot. 

“Hold on. It’s going to be bumpy.”

**********************************************************************************************************

Cara nearly slams the stack of files on the desk. She raises an eyebrow at you. You and Greef both look at each other. The two of you turn back to face Cara and shrug in sync. Your shrug is at least apologetic. You can feel Din’s eyes on you from his position in the corner. He’s got Grogu with him. The toddler is oddly silent, clearly sensing the seriousness of the situation.Cara takes a seat behind her desk.

“What happened?” Her tone makes it clear she’s not in the mood to play games. 

“I met someone to talk business. While I was talking with him, he alerted me to the fact that several people who had it out for Din were waiting to kidnap me. I asked him to provide a distraction.” You explain. “I didn’t know he was going to shoot anyone! I thought that he might be provide a more reasonable distraction.”

She stares at you. Her silence is disapproving. She turns to Greef.

“I had no idea either.” He looks her dead in the eye. “Trust me, I was just as surprised.”

“I can confirm that’s what happened.” Din’s voice nearly startles you. You had almost forgotten he was there. “I was on the phone with her while it happened.”

Cara nods. Something is clearly bugging her. She sighs. “Your friend was protecting you.” Din and Greef both turn to look at you.

“I know.” You nod. Greef raises an eyebrow.

“Enlighten me. Who is this friend?”

“Fennec Shand.” Cara rubs her temple. “The big guy, Burg. He was shot in both of his hands. The bullets pulled from them match Shand’s gun.” She seems so tired all of a sudden, as if the entire weight of the world had just been thrown on her.

“You make a lot of exciting friends.” Greef turns to you, his disapproval evident in his tone. You sigh. You aren’t sure what you can say to that. It wasn’t necessarily wrong; you did have an unfortunate habit of making a lot of interesting friends. Grogu chirps. All four of you turn to look at him. He smiles and waves. It eases some of the tension in the room. He looks back up at Din and begins babbling something. You turn back to Cara.

“So. What do you need me to do?” She raises an eyebrow. “Come on. You’re obviously not happy with me. I wouldn’t be happy with me. This is what, the second shooting I’ve been involved in in four days? So I need to do something to curb this.”

“Stop getting involved in shootings would be a start.” She leans back in her chair. She eyes you for a long moment. “Find Fennec Shand. That needs to be your top priority right now.”

You nod. You understand her logic. You find Fennec Shand, you find who’s protecting you. Whomever is protecting you might be able to help curb some of the violence. You also know it’s Cara’s way of telling you to lay low for a while. Finding Fennec Shand wasn’t going to be easy and would require a lot of work on your part. Work that would hopefully keep you out of the way.

Cara looks towards Din, and you know that they need to have a talk. You stand up as does Greef. Din comes forward. He pauses by you before handing Grogu to you.

“I won’t be long.” You nod. You aren’t sure if it’s meant for you or for Grogu. The child smiles at you. You smile back as you carry him with you out of the office. You look around for a moment before Greef nudges you.

“There’s a park walking distance from here. We can take the ankle bitter there.” He looks behind him into Cara’s office. You can’t hear what’s being said, but something in your gut tells you that it’s going to be a long conversation. “It might be a while.”

The two of you keep your topic of conversation light as you walk to the park. At one point, Grogu insists on being put down, so you do. You make sure he holds onto your hand as you walk just to be on the safe side. He holds onto your pinky. To his credit, he makes it a good way before he tugs on your skirt. You pick him up. The walk goes a lot faster with you carrying him. When you get to the park, you put Grogu down. You fully expect him to go running to get on the playset. Instead, he look at you.

“I think he wants you to come along.” Greef’s voice holds an undercurrent of amusement.

“Okay.” You nod. Grogu beams at you. You can’t help your responding smile. “Do you want to go on the swings?”

You swing with Grogu while Greef watches. He declines to join the two of you even though the swing next to you was open. He opts to sit on a bench. The park isn’t crowded, so it doesn’t feel weird or creepy. You keep Din’s warning from the other day in mind and don’t go too high with the child on your lap. Grogu does try to get you to go higher and faster. You tickle him every time you remind him that you can’t. He giggles every time, and your heart softens at the sound.

_ ”Do you ever think about having children?” You’re curled up against Boba’s bare chest. He idly strokes your hair. It had taken a while for him to feel comfortable enough for him to remove the entirety of his suit. The lights are off so he could take off his helmet. You know better than to look at his face. You can hear his breathing change when you ask the question. The rise and fall of his chest unsteady for a few seconds.  _

_ ”Sometimes.” He answers. “I’m not sure I’m father material, cyar’ika.” He’s clearly wondering why you brought it up. You nestle in closer to him.  _

_ ”What about a Foundling?” _

_ ”I would have no choice.” He shifts, pulling you so your head is resting properly on his chest. “I am not a good man. I would not want a child to get hurt because of my actions.”  _

_ You resist the urge to look up at him. “So, you do want one?” _

_ ”Of course I do.” Boba breathes. The arm wrapped around your waist pulls you closer to him. He knows you as well as you know him, so he doesn’t rush you for your answer. He knows that you’ll tell him in time. You shift. The sheets rustle as you do so. You let out a long sigh after a moment.  _

_ ”Do you...” You pause and shift again. You can feel Boba smile down at you. He rubs small circles on your upper arm. ”What if **I** wanted a kid?”  _

_ Boba doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. His grip around your waist tightens, and he drags you up further onto his body. _

_ “Do you want a kid, mesh’la?” The ‘with me’ is unspoken and lingers in the air. You nod. He moves his free hand to place a finger under your chin. He uses it to tilt your head up, forcing you to look at him. _

_ You look at him. This is the first time you’ve seen his face. It’s not a good look at his face, but it’s more than you’ve seen of it. You catalogue all of his features. His brown eyes soften as he watches your face. Hesitantly, you reach out to touch his cheek. He lets you do so. You can see something in his eyes, but you aren’t sure what it is. You roll so you’re more on your stomach and chest. You run your fingers along the line of his jaw and his cheeks. _

_ ”I think so, yeah.” You begin hesitantly. “I mean, I know it’s a ways off before it’s realistic, and I know that we wou-” Boba cuts you off by lunging forward and kissing you. He moves both of his hands to the back of your head to deepen it. You respond in kind, digging your fingers into his hair. He pulls back after a moment. _

_ ”Call your boss. Tell him you’re not coming in tomorrow.” The low rumble makes you smile.  _

You swing with Grogu until you hear the sound of the motorbike. Grogu perks up at the sound. Din pulls the motorbike into the parking lot. Grogu looks at you and then down at the ground. You stop swinging and gently place the small child on the ground. He goes running towards Din with the most gleeful expression you’ve ever seen. You follow in his wake to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. Din dismounts and makes his way over to the two of you. Greef joins you as well. You can see the space not taken up in the sidecar by Grogu’s seat is filled with your bags. Din leans down and picks him up.

“Thank you.” His quiet words are directed at Greef. Greef nods and moves close to Din. The two of them have a quiet conversation. When it ends, Greef slaps Din on the back and turns to you.

“Keep this one out of trouble.” He tells Din with a wide grin before ambling back towards his car. You stand still for a moment. You’re not sure why you’re suddenly so self-conscious. You hope you didn’t get Din into too much trouble with Cara. The thought makes you frown.

“What did Cara say?” You finally ask. Din takes several steps towards you until the two of you are almost touching. The helmet tilts. You think he’s searching your eyes for something.

“Cara wants me to find you a place sooner rather than later.” He eventually says. 

“She thinks I might be a danger to you. She might be right.” You try to play it off with a wry smile. Din shakes his head. 

“No. I’m the one putting you in danger. Not the other way around.” His voice is filled with conviction. You give him an incredulous look.

“Last I remember, you’re not the one who indirectly caused two different shootings.” You scoff. “Besides. Being in danger is part of my job. I can handle myself.” You stop. A thought is nagging at you. “Do you. I can find a place for myself and be out soon. Just tell me. I probably should have been looking anyway.”

Din grabs your hand. He shifts his hold on Grogu so he can do so. Despite the suddenness of the movement, it’s still a surprisingly gentle gesture. 

“I don’t want. That.” He finishes lamely. “I like having you around.”

“I like being around.” You smile softly at him. “But if I’m putting you in danger.”

“No.” His voice is firm. He shakes his head. “You’re not.”

“Then, what do we do?” Your voice is meek. “I don’t want to put you in danger, and you think you’re putting me in danger. I think that means I should find somewhere else.”

“No.” Something different lurks in his tone. It’s urgent, almost. “You’re staying with me.”

“Din, I ca-”

“I can figure something out.” It’s clear by his tone that this is the end of the discussion for now. His voice softens some. “Let’s go home.”

You nod. You don’t trust yourself to speak. You walk with Din towards the motorbike, side by side. Ever once in a while, you swear he’s looking at you. His hand occasionally moves towards you and then stops. You wonder if you should take it. It wouldn’t hurt, would it? The thought makes your chest hurt, and you have to look away. That could lead down some very dangerous roads.

********************************************************************************************************

You sit outside on one of the plastic lawn chairs and look up at the sky. You need some time to think. So much has happened over the past few days, and you feel like you need to get your head on straight. The problem is that you’re not sure what that means. Things with the company are starting to feel simple. You didn’t have to worry about any chaos in your wake because the company took care of it for you. You purse your lips together. As nostalgic and inviting as the idea is, you remember the countless times you were chewed out for things that were out of your control or other people had done.

No, this was much better. You had more agency this way. 

The door to the house opens and then clicks shut softly. Din makes his way over to you and sits in the lawn chair beside yours. He doesn’t lean back. He just stares at you, his helmet tilted. Eventually, he lets himself settle fully into the chair.

“Grogu is asleep.” He keeps his voice low. “The kid was out like a light.”

“I bet. I wish I could sleep like that.” You close your eyes. It’s nice. It’s not summer, but you can still hear crickets singing. The noise is pleasant. Din shifts. He makes a noise as if he’s about to speak. He stops. He lets out a sigh. You open one eye and turn your head to look at him. He’s scooted further up in the chair. He’s got his elbows on his knees and is looking at the ground.

“I have to tell you something.” You sit up and turn to fully face him. His head is hanging down. “I- You need to know this. It’s not fair to you because it hurts you not knowing this.” 

“Take your time.” Your voice is gentle despite the upwelling panic.

“I was asked before Boba died to keep an eye on you.” Din’s voice is small. He’s clearly ashamed of his confession. “In case something were to ever happen to him.”

You stare at him for a long moment. A thousand and one thoughts race through your mind. You don’t say anything. You wrap your arms around yourself. Din lets out another sigh.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you for the past five years.” He rubs the back of his head. He’s still looking down, as if he’s afraid to meet your gaze. “I thought that an... appropriate amount of time had passed to where I could ask you to work for me.” He finally lifts his head. His tone shifts to earnest. “I’m telling you this because you should know. We’re not in danger from him. I never. I didn’t use anything that I know about you to influence your decision. I wanted you to make it of your own free will.” He pauses. “I’m telling you this so you can make a decision.”

“Of my own free will?” Your voice is impassive. He nods and hangs his head again. You stay silent. Eventually, you sigh. “I thought that might be the case.”

Din’s head shoots up. You give him a wry smile. You’re not shocked by his confession, but you’re not happy with it either. 

“I was his everything. Of course he wouldn’t leave me high and dry after his death. Everyone would be after me because I wouldn’t have his protection.” You let out a sigh of your own. You rub your temple. “It explains a lot. I knew a lot about how to protect myself but not enough. There would be someone who was craftier than me. It took me a couple years before I realized that someone had to be protecting me. I figured that it was another Mandalorian, but I was never sure.” 

You look at Din. He’s lifted his head some but not by much. It’s as if he’s watching you warily. 

“Are you... mad?” He eventually asks. The question makes you snort. He sounds like a kid who knows that he did something wrong and apologizes but doesn’t know if the apology will be accepted. 

“No.” You shake your head. “I think. I would have liked to know this up front. But you. You didn’t keep this from me for years and years, so I appreciate you telling me now.” You smile at him. “I was waiting for it. Your bike is distinctive.”

He doesn’t say anything in response to that. Instead, he looks out into the backyard.

“I didn’t know he was still alive.” 

“I know.” You nod. “You wouldn’t have come forward if you thought that he was alive.” A thought occurs to you. You stare at him. “Why did he pick you?”

Hesitantly, Din shrugs. “He never told me.”

You frown. You assess your companion silently. You go through every bit of knowledge you have about him, and you compare it to what you know about Boba. You take all of that and try to fit it into the framework of what you knew about everyone else. An errant thought crosses your mind, and you laugh out loud. Din’s head whips around.

“Sorry.” You snort. “I was just imagining. The fit Bo-Katan would have if she ever finds out about this? Savior of the Mandalorians, future Queen of the criminal underworld? And she doesn’t even get considered by the most notorious Mandalorian to watch over me?” You giggle. You put a hand over your mouth to try and muffle them. Din leans back in his chair.

“According to her, my sect is a cult.” He notes. His tone is laced with bitterness. You can hear the note of amusement too. That makes you laugh harder.

“A, at the time, no-name cult-follower got the job of watching me, and she got passed up.” You snort. Your hands fall from your face, and you slap the sides of the chair. “Oh shit. There’s only one thing that could make this better.”

Din looks at you expectantly. You pause. You have to wipe tears away from your eyes. 

“I- uh.” You clear your throat. It almost feels awkward to tell him, but you also want him to be in on the joke. “We had talked about maybe having a kid. At some point.”

You’ve never told anyone that. You hadn’t even told your mom or dad about that. It feels strange to put the words out there. It makes them feel real and concrete. Din nods.

“I thought so.” His tone is impassive. You raise an eyebrow. He sighs. “His task was different if you were pregnant or had a child”

You don’t say anything. You’re not sure you could say anything. The knowledge makes your heart hurt. You’re not sure if it hurts in a good way or a bad way. You close your eyes again.

“She wouldn’t have accepted anyway.” Din’s voice makes you open your eyes again. “She believes Fett to be inferior. That he’s not a true Mandalorian.”

“Why?” You raise an eyebrow. “How on Earth could she possibly think that?”

Din makes a noise that indicates he doesn’t know. You huff, crossing your legs.

“Fucker.” You mumble. You sigh and lean back again. “At least it will make taking her off the board a lot more satisfying.” 

You get the feeling that Din can’t wait to take her down. The thought makes you smile. You wonder what it would be like to see him get mad. You imagine the normally considerate man would be quite terrifying if he was pushed too far. The thought causes your cheeks to heat up ever so slightly. You’ve always worked under the assumption that the sweeter or more considerate someone is, the worst it will be when someone pushes them over the edge. What would Din be like? What would he do? Would he do something like that if you were threatened? You look back at the stars.

“Who’s in the position right now to have it all?” Din considers the question for a moment.

“Either myself or Bo-Katan.” He eventually states. “I think we’re in a better position, but I don’t have any reliable sources in her camp.”

“What would you do if you won? Became King of the Underworld?” You tease. Din stiffens.

“I’m not sure.” His voice is halting. “It was never in my plans until recently.”

“You mean to tell me young Din didn’t have grand ambitions?”

“Young Din wanted to be left alone.” His tone is wry. “I’m not doing this for myself. I’m doing it for others.”

You roll over in the chair so you’re on your side. You give him a disbelieving look. 

“If I win, I can give Grogu a good education. I can repay my Elders for all the things they’ve done for me. I can help my people get back on their feet.” You expect him to look at the night sky. Instead, he looks at you. “You were close to that power. What would you have done?”

You snort. You roll back to where you were and shake your head. 

“I wasn’t anywhere close.” You murmur. Your heart beat is strange. It’s beating fast but not in an unpleasant way. You clear your throat. “If I were to have all that power, I... I can’t say I would use all of it for good. I do good things, but I’m also a very petty person when it comes down to it.” You look at your nails. “I would set aside money for my kid to get them through college. I would probably open up some sort of scholarship for kids like me. I would set aside more than enough money so that my family can live comfortably. Well, enough that the ones I like can live comfortably. But that’s just the money side. With the power, I would. This is going to sound silly, but I’d clean house. I’d get rid of the human trafficking. I’d try to figure out a way to get drugs in the rich neighborhoods. That works business wise too because they’ll buy shit for ridiculous rates. I’m sure most of the money is drug money so I can’t do away with that. I would... Heh. I would have a service, I’m not sure if it would be expensive lawyers or hitmen, but I’d have a service where victims of rape could come, and we could either deal with it legally and send the rapist to jail or just put them down as one does with a rabid dog.”

You pause. A thought occurs to you. You bite your lower lip and fiddle with the hem of your shirt, trying to pull it down some.

“I’d also set aside money for you and Grogu so you could, I don’t know? I guess retire early if that’s what you want or not have to work as hard. I’d get you a plot of land that you can do whatever you want with.” You offer. You look up at him. Din is facing fully towards you. It’s clear he’s listening with rapt attention. You don’t think he’s looked away from you the entire time you spoke. You clear your throat. “I mean, you could say no if you wanted. I just. It would be a good way to repay you for your kindness.”

“You don’t need to.” He shakes his head. “You’re doing me a favor.”

“What if I wanted to?” You look at him from under your eyelashes. “Din. You have been. God. You have been so generous, beyond what you needed to do. I know that Boba tasked you with taking care of me, but this. This has to be beyond what he asked, right? And I don’t want you to think that I’m taking advantage of you in some way.”

“I’d let you know if you were.” He looks away towards the sky. You look down at your lap. The silence isn’t necessarily awkward, but it isn’t pleasant either. It’s strange. It’s the sort of tense atmosphere that only occurs when two parties both have things that they want to share, but neither of them knows how to express what they want. You look at the sky as well. You have so many things that you want to say to him and tell him, but you don’t know where to start. You peek at him to see if he might be ready to speak. His posture doesn’t give anything away.

“Grogu likes you a lot.” He breaks the silence first. “I don’t want you leaving yet because of that.”

You look away in order to hide your smile. Your cheeks are definitely heating up at his words. You cover your mouth with your hand. Something tells you he’s using Grogu as an excuse to keep you around longer. 

“I like Grogu too.” You clear your throat. “I like spending time with him. And you.” 

You have to bite down on your lip to stifle your laughter. You don’t have to look at Din to know that part of his brain is trying to figure out how you meant what you just said. You feel as if you might have pushed too far and broken the poor man. He coughs. You nearly lose it.

“Yeah. I like spending time with you too.” He sounds so awkward. It’s as if he’s never flirted before or doesn’t understand when someone flirts with him. You bite down so hard on your lip you’re surprised you don’t draw blood. “I want you to be close. The next door neighbors are going to put their house up on the market. If you want some place of your own, I can buy it for you.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Din.” You finally manage to get yourself under enough control to look at him. He’s pointedly looking anywhere but you. The grass is apparently very fascinating to him. “I think I would like that.”

“I’ll get on it in the morning.” You swear. You wish you could see his face so bad right now. He has to be blushing. It’s so hard not to giggle at the thought. He stands up suddenly. “I should get to bed.”

“Night, Din.” You tell him as he passes you by. 

“Good night.’ He pauses by you for a second. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. He moves on suddenly, as if jolted. You hear the back door to the house open and close. You close your eyes. 

For a second there, you could have sworn you heard him say _sweet girl_ right after he told you good night.

***********************************************************************************************************

_ It’s been a long day. A long fucking day. As soon as you got out of work, you made your way over to your favorite dive bar. You needed something disgusting and greasy, and you needed it to come with a glass of beer or whiskey. It’s the third time you’ve come here in two weeks. The hostess gets you a seat at the back of the place. It’s nice and secluded. That helps you relax somewhat. You can feel your shoulders drop once you slide into the seat. You pick up a menu and begin flipping through it. _

_ You like the place because not only is the food good, but it’s also the sort of place your bosses and some of your coworkers would never go. One coworker in particular would never be caught dead in a place like this, and he was the one you’re trying to avoid. Lamtur is the reason that you’re up to your ass in paperwork today and having to be a press secretary on top of all your other jobs. The thought makes your lips twitch.  _

_ Someone slides into the booth on the opposite side. You look up. You pray to whomever is listening that it’s not a coworker you can’t stand. Which is most of them at this point in the night. Your eyes almost go comically wide when you see who it is. _

_ Funny seeing you here.” You tease. You can’t help the smile that makes its way onto your face. Boba slides further into the shadows of the booth. _

_ "A bounty is here.” He counters. He’s sitting on the side where the corner is, so he can see the rest of the place. He looks over your shoulder occasionally.  _

_ ”And here I was thinking you wanted to see me.” You know you’re poking the bear, but you can afford to have a little fun. He fixes you with a withering look. You grin in response. _

_ "Watch your tongue, little one.” His tone is somewhere between mocking and playful. You arch an eyebrow. You try to keep the rest of your expression impassive but fail miserably. It was doomed to fail. You couldn’t even keep yourself from blushing. Even under his helmet, you can tell he rolled his eyes.  _

_ ”Let me have my fun.” You pout. “It’s been stressful, and you’re the only one I feel like I can have an intelligent conversation with.”  _

_ ”The feeling isn’t mutual.” This time, his tone falls a little more into the playful side, even if his words are scathing. You put a hand over your heart and make a face. For a second, you could have sworn you heard a snort. Must have been your imagination. _

_ ”You’re mean.”  _

_ "I never claimed I wasn’t." _

_ You stare at him for a long moment. You cross your arms over your chest. You hate to admit that seeing him brightened your mood. It made things seem a little more bearable. You’d be damned if you let him know. You have a feeling he would have fun lording that over you if you ever caught him in one of his less serious moods. He was almost always serious, but sometimes, he could be almost playful. Not in a child way but in an adult way, like when that one grumpy adult in your life started ribbing you or a normal caustic English teacher started messing with you. He stares back impassively. You look away first.  _

_ ”There must be no contracts.” It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about the fact that you haven’t met in a couple weeks. You sigh and rub your hands over your face.  _

_ ”You can thank Lamtur for that. I should adopt your policy and not work with incompetent people.” You groan. You resist the urge to let your head hit the table.  _

_ ”Only works if you’re a free agent, little one.” He tilts his head slightly. You can feel him studying you. _

_ ”Lamtur asked to sit in with me on a negotiation. Well, badgered me, so I let him.” You feel as if you owe him an explanation. You’re not sure why you have the feeling, but you do. _

_ ”Your first mistake.” _

_ ”Oh, hush you.” You want to wave him away, but you decide to not push your luck. “So. I let him sit in a meeting with the Maul brothers, and. Well. I don’t know how he got the job, but I suspect it’s nepotism.” You cross one leg over the other. “It was awful. He literally ruined everything, and i ju-” Boba holds up a finger. You fall silently. He inclines his head ever so slightly towards the door. You nod. You take a discrete peak over your shoulder. _

_ ”Fuck!” You hiss. Lamtur was standing at the entrance. He was searching the patrons. You suspect he had to be looking for you. You wonder who the hell told him you liked to come here. You were going to have to have words with them. And find a new dive bar. Boba leans further back until the shadows seem to consume him. “Please dear God, don’t let him see me.”  _

_ ”Hey!” Lamtur calls your name. You can hear Boba’s smirk.  _

_ ”I don’t think God is listening, little one.” If you hadn’t seen him move, you wouldn’t have known where to look for him. You can see some of the lights from the bar reflected off of his visor. It adds a certain amount of menace that sends a chill down your spine. Oh, you would hate to see that in a nearly dark alleyway. _

_ ”Hey! I didn’t realize that you were here.” Lamtur greets you as if he hadn’t walked through the door just now. “Listen. I wanted to talk to you about something.” _

_ ”Oh?” This time, your face is impassive. You arch an eyebrow. You try to not to think about how your tone sometimes sounds like Boba’s. It usually only comes out whenever someone has pissed you off, but you’ve taken more notice of it recently. You think it’s because you’ve been more pissed off recently. _

_ Lamtur doesn’t seem to hear the silent warning. Instead, he goes around to the other side of the booth as if he’s going to sit down/. “Yeah, so, I was thi-” He stops. He must have just noticed that Boba was there. “Oh. I didn’t realize you had company.”  _

_ Boba shifts just so the lights seem even more ominous as they reflect off his visor. It takes all of your willpower to not laugh. You nod.  _

_ ”Yeah. Sorry.” You give him an apologetic smile. “If it’s really important, we can talk. You don’t mind, do you?” You turn to Boba. You almost called him **dear** at the end, but you thought that might push it too far. You settle for fluttering your eyelashes. You can feel the disapproval radiating off of him.  _

_ ”No, no. It’s okay. I’ll just catch you at the office.” Lamtur looks extremely uncomfortable.  _

_ "I wouldn’t want to interrupt important business.” Boba’s tone is silky smooth and ice cold at the same time. It sends an involuntary shiver up your spine. Lamtur gulps. You can see the swallowing motion. It’s almost comical. _

_ ”No, it can wait. I’ll see you back at the office!” He walks briskly away. You look at Boba. You can only wait several seconds before you bust out laughing. You bang your hand on the table a couple of times. When you sit up, a couple tears have made their way down your face.  _

_ ”Oh, fuck. I haven’t laughed this hard in a while.” You wipe at the corners of your eyes. “Oh my God. Thank you for that. I feel like I should buy you a beer or something because oh my God, that was good.”  _

_ Boba isn’t paying attention to you. He’s watching the retreating Lamtur. The sheer displeasure radiating off of him is palpable. You imagine that he’s giving the other man a death glare. _

_ ”You see why I hate him now?” You tease, a soft laugh escaping you. “He’s doing all that, but I know he’s angling for my job.” Boba’s gaze focuses on you. _

_ ”Not your job, little one.”  _

_ ”Ew. That’s gross. He’s a fucking creep.” You scrunch up your face at the implications. “Besides, even if he wasn’t disgusting, he’s not my type.” You’re rewarded with the smallest tilt of Boba’s helmet.  _

_ ”Good. Never trust a man like him.” Boba shifts in his seat. It takes you a moment to realize he’s getting comfortable. He clearly doesn’t trust the man at all.  _

*********************************************************************************************************

You wake up in the middle of the night. You’re not sure why. You just get the feeling that something isn’t right. Din went back to his bedroom after you made him do so. You didn’t want him to risk sleeping on something wrong. 

It takes you a minute to figure out that it’s coming from the side door. Quietly, as quietly as you can manage, you slip off of the couch and creep your way to the door. You had locked and bolted it before you went to sleep, and you did the same for the other two doors of the house. It sounds like something is scratching on the door. You keep low to the floor. You hear a soft curse. The scratching noise starts again.

You’re by the kitchen wall. The light switch is above your head. You stare at the door for a second before flipping the kitchen light on. You hear a curse and something clatter to the ground. You stand up all the way and run to the door. You flip on the outside lights. Someone is running from the door.

For whatever reason, you don’t follow them. Instead, you get the urge to check on Grogu. You run to his room and flip on every light in the house as you do so. You make sure to make a lot of noise. You don’t care if you wake Din up. As a matter of fact, you want him to get up. You hear him get up. He calls your name in alarm. You don’t respond, just throw open the door to Grogu’s room. You run over to the small bed. Grogu makes a noise of sleepy protest as you scoop him up. Din bolts into the room. He looks at the two of you.

You point to the window. Two handprints are on the glass. It's clear that the person was wearing gloves, but the imprint is still there. Din is by your side in an instant, and you hand the kid over to his dad.

“I’ll call Cara,” You tell him. You go over to your phone and dial her number. She picks up after the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Cara.” You take a deep breath. “Someone just tried to break into Din’s house. They weren’t after me. They were after Grogu.”

“Shit.” She sounds wide awake now. You can hear her scrambling. “I’ll be over there as soon as I can. Don’t move, and don’t touch anything.”

You pad back into Grogu’s room. Din is holding the small child close. You look at the two of them. It looks well-practiced in a way that you can’t explain.

“This has happened before, hasn’t it?” You question. Din nods.

“Yes.” He sighs. He adjusts his hold on Grogu. The child blinks at you. It’s clear that he senses both of you are distressed. His eyes are large and worried. “He’s got rare antibodies in his blood. Some lab wants him for that. How did you know?”

“They were trying to pick the door. They were doing a god awful job of it. You’ll probably need to fix the scratches in it.” You lean against the door frame. “Why not the window?”

“They tried before. They set off an alarm and got kind of far with him.” Din sounds ashamed of himself. Grogu pats Din’s arm. You can tell it makes Din smile. It bleeds into his voice. “I caught up to them and got him back. I made sure to have them install bullet proof glass.”

You nod. You make your way over to the two of them. After a moment’s hesitation, you wrap your arms around both of them. It seems like the right thing to do. You make sure Grogu is in the center. He turns his head and blinks at Din. Din doesn’t respond. Instead, he buries his head in the crook of your shoulder. The child lets out a protest in the form of a squeal. Both of you look at him.

“I’m sorry, were we not paying enough attention to you?” You ask after a second. He pauses and then nods. That makes you laugh. You press a kiss to his forehead without thinking. He giggles. You pull away from Din.

“I’m going to make coffee for Cara. Do you want anything?” Din shakes his head. You make your way into the kitchen and start the coffee pot.

Cara is there not long after. When you open the door, you offer her the mug silently. She accepts it with a small ‘thank you’. She steps into the house. Din must have heard you open the door because he comes into the hall, Grogu still in his arms.

“You and Din need to get any incriminating evidence packed away before I can CSU and have them look at the place.” You nod. Din clearly doesn’t want to put Grogu down. “Din. You have to do it. I can hold Grogu.”

“I don’t want the cops here.” Din says. The child chirps at his name. 

“Look, Din. I don’t want to either, but we have to. These guys need to know that they can’t do this.”

With a sigh, Din hands Grogu over to Cara. The two of you get to work. Thankfully, Din keeps most of his work away from his house. You have to fill several boxes with files. Once that’s done, he directs you to the attic. In the attic, he’s made a cubby that you place the boxes inside. He has several other places to hide things throughout the house. It takes a little under an hour. Once that’s done, Cara calls the department. All of the work is done silently. 

When the cops arrive, both you and Din get questioned. Cara gives Grogu back to Din and sits in with the man gathering your statement. You can see CSU scouring the area for clues. You know they found something that corroborates your story when you indicate which door you heard the scratching come from. The man and Cara share a look that speaks volumes. Once he’s gone, you turn to Cara.

“What was out there?” She looks around for a second to make sure no one is listening. The majority of them are casing the outside.

“CSU found a lock pick set on the other side of that door.” She says after a moment. You have a feeling you aren’t going to like what she’s about to say. “The symbol for the New Order was found on the case.”

“Shit.” She nods in agreement. You stand up. You need to get outside. Cara watches you go. You go out the front and sit down on the steps. A couple people are checking over the front lawn. You can see some neighbors have come out onto the street to see what’s going on. One officer is already rolling the crime scene tape around the house.

Your phone rings.

It’s a blocked number. You open the door as quietly as you can and sneak back into the house.

“Hello?” Cara looks up at you when you come back into the kitchen, but you put up a hand.

“Hello. Am I speaking with the Mandalorian’s new employee? Or should I call him Din Djarin?” You look to Cara. She pulls out her phone and texts someone. It must be Din because he silently makes his way into the kitchen.

“This is she.” You respond. “Who am I speaking to?”

“Oh. Trying to trap me with a social convention, I see. I’m not surprised.” You can hear a chair squeaking in the background. Grogu’s eyes go flat at the voice. A tiny sound, almost like a growl, comes from him. “You know, you are more polite than I would have thought. I would have assumed some girl who held Fett’s interested for that long would have been more... rude. Of course, it is rude to put someone on speaker without their consent, but I think I can forgive you this once.”

“How very generous of you.” You drawl. “May I ask why you’re calling?”

“Oh, this is a professional call. See, I know about you. I know about Din and Grogu and Cara and every little thing that goes on in this city. So I know that you had a man look into me.” You bite down on your tongue. “I know that you and Din are looking to usurp the crown of the underworld from Bo-Katan. That’s fine. I don’t particularly care for her myself, and you would be doing me a favor in getting rid of her. What I don’t appreciate is you trying to take me out.”

“Of course, Special Agent Gideon.” You purr sympathetically. You hear the chair stop.

“A five year old could have picked up on that. Do better.” He huffs. The squeaking resumes. “I’m calling to tell you to stay out of my affairs. You do that, and I have no problem with you. The minute you start poking into who I am and what I’m doing, well. We have a problem then.”

“Ah. So you’re allowed to go poking, and we’re not? Seems hypocritical to me, Agent.” 

“Hah. Clever. But you’re not as clever as you think. Fennec Shand wouldn’t have been able to get into your employer’s home if that was the case. I’m sorry. Did I say employer? I meant to say boyfriend instead of employer. That truly is bad business practice on your part, Djarin.” Agent Gideon ‘tsks’. All four of you bristle. “And if you were as clever as you think that you are, you would have realized that Fett isn’t dead. He probably just grew bored of you and faked his own death.”

Din puts a hand on your shoulder. You realize you’re trembling. 

“How very thoughtful of you to tell me that, Agent. I never considered that before.” You try to keep your tone level, but it comes out icy. Agent Gideon laughs.

“Sarcasm isn’t becoming of you, you know. If you stay out of my way and my affairs, we’ll be fine. If you don’t, well.” He pauses. “I could probably get a two for one special if I kidnapped you. Kill two Mandalorians with one kidnapping.”

“Are you threatening me, Agent?”

“No, I’m telling you what will happen if you cross me again like this. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have more important matters to attend to.”

The line goes dead. You look to Cara and Din. They look at you.

“Fuck Bo-Katan. Let’s get this fucker first.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Bugs Bunny voice* Ain't I a stinker?  
> Come say hi at [My tumblr]()


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! The moment we've all been waiting for is here!
> 
> Quick warnings for being drugged. Nothing untoward happens, but the reader is drugged without consent. Some ~suggestive~ content but nothing explicit. Also lots of discussions about a kid if you're not into that kind of thing

Cara’s jaw sets with determination. She nods in response. You look at Din. He’s angry, from the way that his hand keeps on curling and uncurling to form a fist. From the way the helmet is tilted, he’s looking past you, as if he’s thinking. The helmet turns so he’s looking fully at you.

“Yes.” His tone is steel. “But not with you.”

“I’m sorry?” You raise both of your eyebrows. You look at Cara to make sure you heard right. Her expression is more impassive, but she did raise an eyebrow. You turn back to Din. “This guy just threatened to kidnap me to get both you and Boba, and you’re not going to let me in on it?”

“Yes.” Din sighs. Grogu makes a noise of distress, and Din shifts him. He doesn’t look away from you, though. “You’re too close. It’s too personal.”

“And it’s not for you?” You challenge.

“I’m used to threats like this. You’re not.”

“He has a point.” You whip your head around to give Cara a death glare. She uncrosses her arms slightly and shrugs. “Look. You want to get this guy. I want to get him. Din certainly does. But the fact is that you’re the target. It would be all too easy for him to set a trap for you under the guise of finding his weakness.”

You stare at her. Your jaw twitches. You don’t know what to say. You can see the logic, but it’s so hard to parse everything out. Of course it was personal. Not only did Gideon threaten your life, but he also threatened Din and Grogu and everyone else close to Din. That didn’t even begin to cover his comment about Boba Fett. You can feel tears beginning to form at the corners of your eyes. You bite down hard on your tongue. You’re not going to cry. You’re stronger than that. Your shoulders are tense. You look back to Din.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning.” It’s clear that he’s offering it as an olive branch. You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

CSU stays for a while, collecting evidence. You sit down at the kitchen table and watch them. You’re unsure of what to do. You can feel the beginnings of a headache, and you can feel tears forming. You shake and blink your head repeatedly to get rid of them. You’re not going to cry. You refuse to cry.

The comment about Boba sticks in your head. It lingers. You want to get rid of it or think about anything else, but it simply won’t leave. It hurts. You hate to admit it, but that cut deep. It cut you down to the quick. You know that can’t be the case. He loved you too much to do that. The two of you were thinking about having a child together. He wouldn’t just up and leave. Would he? You hate that it has you second guessing yourself at every turn. You keep your chin in your hands. 

It’s still dark when CSU leaves. Cara speaks with Din before she leaves. They’re planning something. You wish they would let you in on it. You want to know. You deserve to know. You don’t say anything. You just stay in the kitchen. You stare wordlessly, sightlessly. Everything hurts. Every emotion running through your body feels as if it’s going to take control of you without your permission. It hurts so bad.

Din pads into the kitchen. You look up.

“I moved some of Grogu’s things into my room.” You nod. You’re unsure of what to say or what he wants. He pauses. “Come to bed.”

You look at him. He holds out his hand. Wordlessly, you take it. You’re unsure of where this is going or what his intentions are. You trust him. You think. He leads you back to his bedroom. You can see Grogu in a small bed, bundled in blankets. The lights are off. Din ushers you inside his room. He closes the door softly behind him. You stand in the middle of the room. You feel adrift. You watch him. He goes to the bed and pats it. Hesitantly, you climb into bed with him. You turn onto your side.

“Don’t look.” Din says. It takes you a minute to realize what he’s talking about. He sets his helmet on the table. The thunk sounds so loud. He comes over and settles behind you. After a moment, he puts an arm around you and pulls you close. He makes sure you know what he’s going to do so that you can tell him if you don’t want that. You push back into him. He places his chin on top of yours. You bury your head in the sheets. It smells like him. You aren’t sure how to describe it other than... him. Like motor oil and freshly cut grass with something softer underneath those. The arm around your waist is nice. It’s an anchor that keeps you from going too far.

You lay there for a moment. As time passes, Din slowly molds himself to your body. He presses his chest against your back. His legs follow the bend in yours. It’s nice. It relaxes you while setting your inside on fire. You imagine what it would be like on a lazy morning with him. Him waking you up with slow kisses along your neck and feather-light touches along your spine. You imagine how you would arch into him. He’d have to kiss you to keep you quiet. The thought makes your toes curl. 

“Mesh’la.” Din begins. You nearly freeze at the nickname. That’s one of the few words you knew from Boba. Din just called you beautiful.

“I don’t want you to go.” His voice is soft. It’s different without the helmet on, and it sounds nice. “But I can’t worry about you and Grogu at the same time.”

You nod. You don’t trust yourself to speak. 

“I don’t want Gideon to have a chance to get either of you. It would be worse if he could get both of you.” The soft admission makes your breath hitch. “I don’t know what I would do.”

“There has to be a way I can help.” You murmur. Some of your frustration bleeds into your voice. Din presses a soft kiss to your forehead. The small gesture makes you go slightly limp. 

“You can. I’ll find a way. I’m not leaving you in the dark. I just have to send you to someone else for your safety.” You feel a hand under your chin. He turns your head slowly. You close your eyes. “Can I-?”

“You can.” His lips ghost over yours for a second. When they meet, it’s slow and sensual. It’s not the frenzied rush of a man who couldn’t wait any longer. It’s the softness of a man who would wait as long as you asked him to. You can tell he hasn’t made out with a lot of people, but it’s still a nice kiss. You turn slightly. You bend one of your arms so you can tangle your hand in his hair. He lets out a low groan when you tug just so. That makes you smile. You tug again. The groan is louder.

“Don’t.” He doesn’t pull away far from you. It’s not a warning but a soft plea. “I can’t resist myself.” To emphasize his point, he rolls his hips just so. You smirk.

“What if I don’t want you to?” You tease. He makes a noise you’ve never heard a man make. It’s aroused and hesitant, as if he would very much like to go down that path but knows it’s not a good idea. 

“Not tonight.” It’s a promise the way he says it. The two of you can explore that on a later night. He kisses you again. You push back further into him. He nearly drapes himself over your body. He pulls away. You go to ask him what’s wrong, but your question becomes a squeak. He’s moved just enough so that he can lay you on your back. You keep your eyes closed. He traces your jawline for a second before kissing you again. Both of his hands are planted on either side of your head. You hook a leg around his waist to bring him closer to you.

It’s a slow make-out session. It’s clear the two of you are holding back for fear that it becomes more than that. You want it too, though. You like to see him unravel for you. The thought alone has you rolling your hips up slightly. You can feel his slowly hardening length along your inner thigh. He lets out a choked out moan when you do so.

“Quit.” He warns. His tone has no power. Instead, he sounds wrecked. God. You’d love to wreck him right now. You wonder what his face looks like, how flushed he has to be. You can imagine how pliant he would be. He’d probably let you take control, follow your lead. The thought of such a powerful man letting you do whatever you wanted to him feels addictive. You can’t imagine what actually being able to do that will do to you.

At some point, he pulls away. He doesn’t go far. The two of you are nose to nose. You can feel his chest move in time with yours. You can feel the shift in energy. You know what’s going to happen. He’ll have you do what he can, but he’s not going to risk anything happen to you. You’re not sure if you’ll be set from house to house or what. You can tell he has a plan, though.

“Promise me something, Din” You whisper against his lips.

“Anything, mesh’la.”

“When this is over, and I get to come back, I want to make love to you.” You whisper. “Then fuck you.” 

The noise that he makes is absolutely sinful. “You can do that as much as you like.” He promises. 

“Good. Because I’m going to want to do it a lot.”

***********************************************************************************************

When you wake up, Din is already out of bed. You can hear him in the kitchen with Grogu. Blearily, you stumble your way into the kitchen. His helmet is back on, but at least you now have an idea of his face. 

“Morning.” You mumble.

“Morning.” He hands you a cup of coffee. “We’re using my car today.”

“You have a car?” He nods.

“It’s old.” He warns. Once you finish your coffee, he hands you a bottle of water. You down it. You’re hoping it will make you feel less groggy.

He wasn’t kidding. The car in his garage is old. You still feel groggy when you get in the car. Din buckles Grogu into the car as you stumble your way into the passenger’s seat. You want to ask where you’re going, but you can’t find the words. Whatever. The coffee just hasn’t kicked in yet. As he drives, Din keeps periodically checking on you. You don’t understand why until a bit into the drive. You go to shift in your seat, but your limbs don’t feel like they’re working. He looks at you. You can feel the apologetic look.

“I’m sorry.” He begins. “I only know of one place you’ll be safe, but you wouldn’t go there willingly. So I had to.”

Your eyes widen. You look at him.

“What did you...” Your lips are dry. “Did you put something in my coffee?”

“In your water.” He focused on the road again. “This is the safest bet for you. I hope you can forgive me.”

He pulls the ancient vehicle into a nondescript parking lot. You frown. A car pulls up. It’s older than his, a classic. Your eyes widen. You go to shake your head. You recognize that car. You keep on feeling on the verge of passing out.

“Nuh-uh.” You manage. Din ignores you. He gets out of the car and goes over to your side of the car. “No.”

He opens your door. Fennec Shand gets out of the other car. You try to push Din away. Fennec leans against the car with a raised eyebrow.

“Need help, Mando?” She teases. Din nods.

“No. I don’t want to.” You try to protest. Your limbs feel so heavy. It’s taking all of your willpower to keep your eyes open. Din unbuckles you and gets you propped upright. The last thing you remember it seeing Fennec come over to help Din move you over to the Slave I.

**************************************************************************************************

The bed you wake up in is nice. It’s silky smooth. You open one eyelid. Black silk. You wiggle your toes. It takes you a moment to get your bearings. When you do, you bolt upright. You instinctively look for the door.

“I get why Din had to drug you.” A voice comes from the corner. Fennec is perched on the arm of the chair. She’s watching you, observing you. You look at the door and then to her. She shakes her head, a small smile playing about her lips. You know you wouldn’t get far. “Come on. Boss man wants to see you.”

Boss man? Your heart sinks.

“What if I don’t want to see him?” Your voice is a whisper. Fennec gives you a look.

“Come on. We don’t have all day.” She stands up. She’s clearly waiting for you to move. Slowly, you get up out of the bed. Your clothes are fine. Nothing is out of place. You pause before a mirror. You feel like you should fix your hair. In the reflection, you see Fennec roll her eyes. You ignore her in favor of making yourself look presentable. You lift your chin and nod when you’re ready. She opens the door. You step through it. She follows behind you, giving you directions. She stays close enough to you that it would be easy enough to catch you if you try to run.

The two of you reach a set of large double doors. She slips past you to knock on them. You lift your chin higher.

“Come in.” A familiar, raspy voice calls. Fennec swings the door open and steps inside. After a moment, you do too. The room isn’t what you expect from the doors. You think it would be an audience chamber, but instead, it’s a study. You see books on all the shelves. A lot of the books look familiar. A figure is sitting behind the desk. You don’t dain to look at him, not yet. 

‘Do you want me to stay?” Fennec asks the man behind the desk. He shakes his head. He’s not wearing his helmet from what you can tell. You haven’t looked at him properly yet. 

“I don’t think that will be necessary.”

Fennec slips back out. Before she closes the door, she looks at you and then him.

“Try not to kill each other.” A note of derisive humor is in her voice. The doors shut with an ominous sound.

You scan the room for several more minutes before turning to the man behind the desk. You can feel his eyes on you. Eventually, you turn to him. You clasp your hands behind you back.

Boba doesn’t look the same. You weren’t sure what you were you were expecting. The Sarlaac chemical explosion would have hurt him regardless of what happened. His hair is gone. He’s got several long scars on hos face, one of which is relatively thick. He’s still... You shake that thought from your head. If he was yours, then he wouldn’t have abandoned you. The two of you stare at each other for a long minute.

“I’m not mad at you.” You break first. You step forward. “I’m fucking pissed at you.” 

He doesn’t say anything.

“Five years!” You hate how easily you cave. “Five fucking years you went on and let me think you were dead! What kind of man does that? Five goddamn fucking years!”

Boba doesn’t say anything. He just watches you. It both tickles you and hurts you that he knows the drill.

“Goddammit, Boba!” You have to resist the urge to throw things off his desk. “Five fucking years! I mourned you! I missed you! Do you know how many nights I cried myself to sleep? Do you know how many times I died because I thought you had? And you were alive this whole fucking time! And you never said anything or gave me any indication that you were alive!”

“Cyar’ika.” His commanding voice nearly stops you. If you were a weaker woman, it might have. 

“No! I’m not fucking done!” You point at him. “Why the fuck didn’t you do anything, huh? What in the fuck made you think that this was remotely okay? Was I not good enough? Then why fake your own goddamn death instead of telling me? Why the fu-”

“Cyar’ika.” This time, you do shut up. You watch him. You realize that you’ve started crying. He stands up and comes around his desk. Boba sits on the edge of it. His eyes scan your face. “I have my reasons. I’m not discussing them with you while you’re upset.” He stares at you. You stare back at him. The look is undermined by your sniffling. After a moment, he stands up. He steps toward you and takes a hold of your shoulders. 

“I’m not a good man.” His voice is a deep rumble. “But I would never abandon you.”

The words cause a fresh flood of tears. You fling yourself into his arms despite yourself. Boba wraps them around you as you bury your head into his shoulder. You cry. You aren’t sure if you cry out of relief or anger or happiness. He holds you close to him. You cry until you think you can’t possibly cry anymore, and then you cry a little bit longer. He holds you steady throughout it. He doesn’t speak words of comfort. Boba simply holds you close to him.

“I’m still pissed at you.” Your murmur into his shoulder once the tears have subsided.

“I wouldn’t expect any less from you.” His deadpan tone makes you huff.

“Boba...” You begin. You stop yourself. You aren’t sure of what to say. You had thought of what you might say to him if he was still alive hundreds, thousands, of times. Now that he’s here in front of you, you can’t seem to find the words. You have so much over the past five years that you want to tell him about. You want to tell him about Grogu, you want to tell him about how you quit, you want to tell him about almost everything in your life, but you don’t know how. You don’t know where to start or what to say. You wonder if he feels the same way.

Instead, you pull away so that you can see his face better. You frown softly, tears threatening to start again. He looks back at you. It’s hard to read his expression, but you think he’s studying you the way you are him. You bring one of your hands around to touch his face. You make sure that he knows what you’re about to do, even though you know he can stop you if he wants. He doesn’t. You let your finger trace the long scar from his right temple to his opposite cheek. His eyes flick away just as your eyes to his.

“Boba.” You breathe. He doesn’t look at you, won’t look at you.

“Something like this was bound to happen sooner or later.” His voice is thick with regret for a moment. You want to ask how bad the scarring is. You suspect it’s bad, given that the scar extends past his jawline and down some of his neck.

“I kind of like it.” His gaze finds yours. You continue before he thinks you’re mocking him. “Scars are ways to show what we survived, right? This. This shows that you survived something that by all accounts you shouldn’t have. It shows that you fought against all odds, and you won.”

“Most people don’t see it that way, mesh’la.” The nickname causes your heart to flutter.

“Yeah, well, most people aren’t me.” You tap his nose for emphasis. He gives you a look that would make a weaker man cower in fear. It makes you smile softly. “I don’t care what you look like. All I care is that you’re alive, and you’re with me.” Your voice cracks at the end. Boba stares at you for a long moment.

‘And what about Din?” He asks. His tone is carefully neutral. You frown.

“What about him?” You challenge. “You really want to have that conversation now?”

“So there’s something to have a conversation about.”

You huff. You step back and cross your arms over your chest. “Yeah. Of course there is. You were gone for five years. I mourned you for all of them. I never even found anyone during that time. I couldn’t bring myself to look at anyone else. I certainly didn’t go actively searching.”

“He sent you to me because of a threat.” Boba’s tone is curt. You can hear the undercurrents of jealousy in it. You nod. You look towards one of the shelves before letting out a sigh.

“It’s... Mostly business, somewhat personal.” You clear your throat. “Din’s been trying to gain control of the city’s underworld. He’s been fighting Bo-Katan for control of it. Obviously, there are some outliers and hold-outs, so we thought that maybe we could take out the Special Agent who has control over part of the trades. We just did some cursory digging, and Gideon, the agent, threatened me. I get the sense he’s also been after Din’s Foundling.”

Boba stares at you as you talk. The only betrayal of his emotions is his eyes narrowing slightly. He’s clearly watching your face to gauge your reactions. You notice his gaze sometimes lingering on your lips, which sends a nice thrill through you. His nostrils flare at the mention of Bo-Katan. 

“There’s more.” His statement is simple. You know what he wants to know. Boba wants to know why it’s personal to Din and why Din would think you were safer with him. You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out a sigh.

“What do you want me to say? I care a lot about him, and he cares a lot about me!” 

“Has he kissed you?” Boba’s tone is flat, dangerous. You sigh. You close your eyes.

“Yes.” You hate how weak your voice sounds. “But that’s it.”   
Boba makes a noise that indicates he’s less than convinced. You resist the urge to growl.

“No. You can’t do this.” You point a finger at him. You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Unless you haven’t touched anyone in the last five years, you can’t get mad at me.”

“I haven’t.” You scan his face. He can’t be telling the truth. You know he is from his tone alone. His expression confirms it. You swear. You begin pacing.

“That’s not- This isn’t. You can’t.” You take a deep breath. You try to collect your thoughts. Boba takes several measured steps towards you.

“Did he kiss you like I did?” You whirl around to face him. 

“No.” You want to find the words to defend Din, but you can’t. Boba steps closer to you. You take several steps back. It’s not from fear, but it is caused by the look on his face. It’s one you’ve seen before when another man tried to talk to you. It makes your knees go weak. The backs of your thighs hit the desk.

“Has he touched you like I did?” You shake your head. “Can he fuck you like I did?” You shake your head again. As much as you lo- like Din, you know it wouldn’t be the same experience. Boba pushed you and took what he wanted from you. He never pushed you too far or took too much, but he did push and take. There was no mistaking it. He was always in control. If you were to ever sleep with Din, you know that you would be the one pushing and taking control. You wouldn’t mind. Something about him made you want to do that, but it would be different.

“Boba.” Your voice is nearly a whimper. He takes the final steps towards you. He’s crowding into your space. You forgot just how intimidating he can be, even to you. His expression twists into something so self-satisfied.

“Good.” He pulls back suddenly. You stare at him. You’re not entirely sure what just happened. Boba is once again the picture of calm and collected. It’s as if nothing happened, asi f that moment of jealousy never existed. You narrow your eyes at him.

“I hate you.” The words are out of your mouth before you can think better of them. His lips twitch, as if he wants to smirk.

“I know, Princess.” That makes you scowl. That particular nickname was only reserved when he wanted to rile you up in some manner. You cross your arms over your chest. A slightly imperious smirk is on his face. “Tell me about the Foundling.”

You can’t help the fond smile that makes its way onto your face. “His name is Grogu. I have no idea how old he is. About 2, maybe? He’s- God. He is a mess. Din is going to have his hands full with that kid. I don’t think he’ll be too much trouble when he’s a teen, but between the ages of, oh, 5 and 9? 10? That kid is going to be a terror. He’s so mischievous as it is. He paints himself green because he heard someone say that going green is good.” You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. You shake your head. “He’s going to be like a real life version of Calvin and Hobbes.”

Your voice falters. Talking about a child with Boba brings up old memories. Your brain suddenly begins cycling through scenarios long forgotten. It’s all questions and what-ifs. What would your child be like? What would they look like? Would they have had Boba’s hair and your smile? Would they have been reserved like Boba or daring like you? Which one of you would they have taken after more? Each question brings a fresh wave of an emotion you can’t identify forward. It feels like sadness, it hurts like sadness, but it’s not that. It’s too filled with nostalgia and hope for it to be true sadness. 

You look at Boba. His expression has softened some at your description of Grogu. You can see the slight upward turn of his lips. Your heart aches. Even though he’s right in front of you, you can feel a divide, a rift caused by time. After a moment, Boba steps towards you again. He doesn’t crowd your space this time. He’s gentle, just as gentle as you were when you reached out and touched his face. He runs the back of his hand along your cheek. You close your eyes and lean into his touch. You expect him to pull away quickly, but he doesn’t. His touch lingers. His gaze is heavy. The sorrow and loss is palpable in it, but so is the hope. He doesn’t need to tell you that he loves you and missed you; you can feel it from his gaze alone.

**************************************************************************************************

Dinner sees you, Boba, and Fennec eating together. You stay silent for most of it. You watch the interaction between the two of them. They play off of each other very well. You have to stamp down on the upwelling surge of jealousy. It was okay. It was fine. You were imagining things between them. Even if you were, you couldn’t judge him. That would make you a hypocrite. You think Fennec knows what you’re thinking. Everytime you stab at your food, she looks at you with a knowing smile. 

After dinner, Boba motions for you to follow him. You do so wordlessly. He ends up leading you into his temporary room. It’s not much, nothing more than a bed really. You get the feeling this is as much your space as it is his. He points to the end of the bed. You wordlessly sit down. 

“I wasn’t sure I would survive. My wounds were bad. I was never sure if I would die from infection.” He begins carefully. “It was too dangerous to go back for you at that point. Too many people were watching to make sure I was dead. I layed low and waited. It came to my attention that Bib Fortuna had taken over Jabba’s seat. I saw an opportunity.”

“An opportunity? For what?” 

“My father did the best that he could with what he had. He was the best father that I could have asked for. Even then, it was understood what I would become. My path was written for me long ago.” Boba pads closer to you and brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face. “I want our child to have a choice. If they end up following my life or yours, I want it to be because they chose that.”

You process his words. “So, you’re going to take over so our child could have a better life? So... So they would have the opportunities you never had? And wouldn’t have to fight like I did?” You scan his face. He nods slowly.

“I have always been beyond saving, but our child isn’t.” He rubs his thumb along your cheek.  
“When were you going to tell me that you were still alive?” 

“Once I took over.” He tilts his head. “Becoming King was always in my cards, so long as I played them right.”

You swallow hard. You’re unsure of what to say. A thought occurs to you.

“Din won’t give in without a fight.” Boba looks at you. His eyes are flat. “But. Who says there can’t be two Kings? Think about it. You and Din would be amazing business partners. It’s like good cop, bad cop but with... crime bosses. There will be people who won’t trust you because of how you handle things, so we set up Din as an opponent when he’s our ally. That way everything is theoretically all of ours.”

Boba’s lips twitch.

“I’ve thought of that.” He stops. You know he’s teasing you by stopping there. You look at him expectantly.

“And?’

“That’s our plan.” You stare at him for a second. Our plan...? Did that mean what you thought it did? He watches you. His eyes glitter with barely repressed mischief as he watches you put it together. You aren’t sure whether to be proud or to be mad. It was a good plan, but you were upset that you couldn’t be included in it earlier.

“That explains why he had to keep correcting his tense when he talked about you!” You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “He knew you were alive this whole time, and he didn’t tell me! And you! The signet, was that for me or for him?”

“Both of you, little one.” You don’t miss the dark promise in the last phrase. It makes your toes curl. 

“So why keep it a secret? What’s the deal?” You demand. “Are you laying low until it seems like Din desperately needs help? And when Bo-Katan makes a move, you pop up out of nowhere?”

“It doesn’t matter. Gideon has changed it.”

“Fucker.” You nearly snarl. Boba gets an amused glint in his eyes. You forgot how much dark glee he got from you being nasty to someone who deserved it. “But I still want to know what the plan is.”

“Patience, Princess.” He mocks. Your brain goes to a particularly memorable time that he’d said the same phrases to you in the same tone. You shake your head. You know he noticed and knows what you’re thinking about from the cruel way his lips curl. You go to look away, but he quickly takes a hold of your chin and makes you look at him. You want to squirm out of his grasp, but you can’t. He makes a low noise of amusement.

“You never were much for patience.” He reminisces. Boba lets go of your chin. He presses his thumb against your lips. You stare at him for a moment. You part your lips, but you keep your teeth together. He sighs as if he’s disappointed in you, but you both know it’s for show. “Do you need a reminder of what happens to brats?”

It’s hard to look imperious in this situation. You try your best. That makes him chuckle. After a moment, you open your mouth enough that he can press his thumb against your tongue. He switches it out for his pointer finger. You lave your tongue over the digit. His eyes grow dark as he watches you. When he pulls his finger away, a thin strand of spit connects the two for a second. He looks at you. His gaze is hungry. You shake your head.

“No. You’re going to have to earn that back.” You keep your tone matter-of-fact.

“That’s fine, Princess. We both know you’ll cave soon enough.” God. The man was infuriating. You don’t reply. Instead, you flop back onto the bed and look at the ceiling. You regard it for a long moment.

“What is the plan?” You finally ask. “I know I can’t do much without becoming a risk, but I can’t just sit here. I need to do something.”

Work was always good at distracting you, and you needed a distraction. You weren’t sure you could sit around and do nothing because you’d be in your head. That was the last place you wanted to be. If you were in your head, that meant that you would have to deal with, well, everything. Like the fact that not even 24 hours ago, you were kissing Din and now you’re laying in Boba’s bed trying desperately to forget how he made you feel. The bed creaks as Boba sits on the other side.

“Nothing.” He rumbles. “Laying low is your task.”

You frown. You were expecting that answer, but it still didn’t hurt any less. It felt like being relegated to the side lines. Well, it wasn’t a felt like at all. You were being benched. You try to ignore how much the bed smells like him and figure out what you can do. Boba can clearly sense your discomfort. He shifts, the bed creaking with each movement. He settles himself and pats the bed. You look to him for a second. You move up towards him. When you’re close enough, he grabs you and lays you so that your back is to his chest, your legs settled in between his. He lets you shift and get more comfortable. Your head lulls back onto his shoulder. 

“There might be files for you.” Boba speaks carefully. You can tell that he and Din have yet to convene and go over everything. 

“Yeah. I can easily do research and lay low.” You try not to let your excitement show too much. 

“We’ll see.” His tone is doubtful. He does have a point. Even when you do something as mundane as research, you still can’t seem to lay low. You can’t help letting your eyes flutter closed. This is nice. It’s oddly relaxing. It certainly makes you think of old times. How many times had you fallen asleep in his arms? You hadn’t felt this safe in a long time. He leans over slightly. The light to the room shuts off with a click.

“Sleep, Princess.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only warning is a graphic depiction of violence. Other than that, there's no major warnings

When you wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. You frown and roll over to your other side. You don’t know why you’re surprised. He almost always woke up early and hardly ever stayed with you. 

That thought sends a jolt of agony through the cloud of sleepiness. All ideas you had about going back to sleep are gone, replaced by sheer hurt. You curl into yourself. He left you. It didn’t matter that it was for a potential future or child. He left you! He left you, and he didn’t even bother to give you a reason why until years later. The hurt rolls over you and threatens to take the form of bile. Instead, you smack the bed with your palm several times.

God. Why did it have to hurt so bad?

You had thought that this emotional wound was healing nicely. Yes, it was still tender, but you thought that maybe it had healed. This was like ripping not only the healing flesh off but also digging deep into the wound. You roll over. The sheets are tangled around your legs, so kicking isn’t possible. You slap your hands against the bed again. You can feel tears threatening to form.

The absolute worst part of all of this was that seeing him again made things feel better. You hadn’t forgiven him, and you wouldn’t for a long while, but you missed him. You didn’t realize how much you missed him until you saw him again, and that. That hurts more than anything else. It went beyond hurt into something that was just sheer pain. You bury your face into the pillows. It doesn’t help that everything in the room smells like him. You can vividly recall when your bed smelled the same way. You want to scream and yell, but you can’t. Instead, you lay there and silently sob.

You hate yourself. You feel so weak and powerless, and you hate yourself for it.

You don’t know how long you lay there. You think you fall back asleep for the briefest period of time. You wake up to the door opening. You lift your head from the pillow and look over your shoulder. Boba walks silently into the room. You roll over onto your back and sit up slowly. He doesn’t look back at you. Instead, he goes to the end of the bed and sits down. The bed creaks as he does so. He’s clearly thinking about something. You watch him wearily.

“Din and I are meeting tonight to discuss the change in plans.” Boba turns to look at you. “You should as well..” The implication was clear. He wants you to be there so that all three of you can be on the same page. No misunderstandings or relaying questions if all three of you are together. You also sense there’s another reason he wants you to be there. You don’t think he wants you there as a power play, to tell Din that no matter what he has you and nothing can change that, or if it’s for a different reason. You nod.

“What time and where?” You begin formulating a plan of your own. You need to know how long you have to get everything ready before you can move.

“Tomorrow night. Not far from here.” Boba’s eyes scan your face. You look back at him. The air feels heavy in the silence between the two of you. Even though he’s sitting on the end of the bed, he might as well be miles away, on a different coast. It feels as if an ocean is between the two of you. His shoulders drop after a moment. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a flip phone. A burner phone ,you realize. He holds it out to you wordlessly. Your hand brushes against his as you take it. The small touch feels electric.

“I’ll let him explain the rest.” Boba’s tone borders on sardonic. He straightens his back and stands up slowly. You watch him. You feel like you should say something, but you don’t know what to say. 

“Boba.” He stops at the sound of his name. You shift, leaning forward some. You take a deep breath. “I don’t know what I want right now or where I stand with, well. Anything. I know that things are changing, and I’m changing with them. I don’t-” You pause. You look up to the ceiling. “I can’t have nights like last night where things are like what they used to be. My head isn’t clear enough for something like that. I need- I don’t know what I need, but. Forgiveness is a process, and it can’t be rushed.”

“I know.” He rumbles. “You’ll do it when you’re ready.”

He doesn’t look at you. Instead, he slips out of the room and quietly shuts the door behind him. You stare after him. You let out a short, humorless laugh. You fall back against the pillows. You stare at the ceiling for a long moment while you consider what to do. You lift your head up enough to look as you flip the phone open. One number is saved in it. You dial it. It rings several times.

“Hello?” Din’s voice filters through the line. You can’t help your grin.

“Hey. Did I catch you at a bad time?” You hope you didn’t.

“No. I was going to call soon.” He confesses. You hear Grogu in the background babbling.. “Hold on. Someone wants to talk to you.”

You hear rustling as the phone is handed over. You cover your mouth with your hand to try and hide the fact you’re grinning like a fool. 

“No, you hold it like this.” You hear Din say in the background. You hear more shuffling before you hear Grogu chirp.

“Hi, Grogu! How have you been?” The kid giggles at the use of his name. He babbles for a bit. You nod in understanding. You hear rustling before Din takes back the phone.

“He said he misses you.” Din’s voice is thick with an emotion you can’t place right off the bat. “He wants to know when you’re coming home.” Your heart shatters, but somehow, it’s the good kind of shattering.

“Tell him I’m coming home as soon as I can.” You have to place a hand over your heart. You hear Din relay the information to Grogu. Grogu babbles a little bit. Din clears his throat.

“He said to hurry.” His tone is rueful, as if he’s embarrassed. You grin.

“Why does he want me to hurry?” You tease.

“I’m not going to tell her that.” You hear Grogu arguing fiercely with Din. “No. I don’t have to tell her that.” A high-pitched whine hits your ears. “Okay. I’ll tell her.” He comes back on the line. 

“He said he wants you to hurry home because I’m sad. That you’re not here.”

You cover your mouth.

“Tell him that I’m hurrying because. I’m sad that I’m not there with you.” Din pauses. For a second you think that you’ve broken him until you hear him relay the message to Grogu. The child cheers.

“Did Fett tell you about the meeting?” Din’s clearly trying to regain his composure.

“Just that all three of us will be there. Nothing other than that.” You sigh. You close your eyes.

“I want to make sure that you’re there so you know what’s going on.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I might have you work the Bo-Katan angle.” Din lets out a sigh. “Has he... been treating you right?” The worry is evident in his voice.

“As right as he can in this situation.” You mirror his sigh. “I don’t know, Din. It’s so complicated that I just. I feel like I’m floundering, and I’ve only been here a day. I. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, mesh’la.” His admission is quiet. You still hear it clearly. 

“Where are things with me coming home?” You pick idly at your sleep shirt. 

“That’s part of what I want to talk about tonight.” Din sounds so tired all of a sudden. “It could be a while. I don’t want it to be that long, but I also want you to be safe.”

“Could we d-”

“Not on the phone.” Din interrupts you. “We can talk about it later.”

You nod. That makes sense. You had assumed that because it was a burner phone you would be safe, but you could never be too careful in these kinds of situations.

“Yeah. You’re right. Later.” You close your eyes again. You don’t know why, but you can feel a headache starting to form. It’s most likely because of all the stress from the past few days. “Can I ask you to do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“I don’t know what the two of you have planned, but I want you to be careful when it comes to me. I don’t. I don’t want to be used as a pawn in your game.” You frown. “I know you wouldn’t intentionally, but I just worry.”

“Of course.” His tone is soothing. “I understand. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen.”

“Thank you.” Your voice is soft. You hear a ringing in the background.

“I have to take that.” Din truly sounds sorry, as if he doesn’t want to stop talking with you. “I- Be safe, sweet girl.”

“You too.” You whisper. The call ends with a click. You look back up at the ceiling. You lay there for a moment, unsure of what to do. You need to go ahead and get a plan together for tomorrow. What Din gave you wasn’t a lot to go on, but it was better than what you had. You sigh. Slowly, you sit up. You make your way out of bed and amble towards the bathroom. You probably need to make yourself look presentable. You turn on the shower and wait for the water to warm up. The thought occurs to you that your primary goal for tomorrow is to make it clear that they’re not leaving you out of important decisions. 

.

That feels like a step in the right direction. It makes sense. You shuck off your clothing and step into the shower. You take your time. You aren’t sure you’re quite ready to face the world, but you don’t have a choice. Briefly, you wonder about clothes until you realize that there’s probably some in the closet in the bedroom. You’re sure some must have been moved into it. Once you finish your shower, you pad out back to the bedroom. Sure enough, some of your clothes are in the closet. You pick out an outfit and get dressed. You look at yourself in the mirror and sigh. You’ll spend more time on your appearance later.

You make your way to the space Boba has claimed as his office. Something about this space was too big and too empty. You hate to admit it, but you need some form of human contact. You rap on the doors.

“Enter.” Boba’s gruff voice sounds from the other side. You step inside and close the door behind you. You’re surprised he’s even in the office until you see the schematics laid out before him. He’s got several floor plans sprawled out on his desk. You pad over to his desk and look at them. Most of them seem to be the Hutt’s “palace”. It was fairly close to a palace. They hid their network inside of a themed hotel and casino. The place was somewhere between Caesar's Place and Luxor. It had the palace design of Caesar’s and a lot of the Egyptian designs associated with Luxor. It was common knowledge to locals that the floors they were “renovating” were where business meetings and the like were held. You sit on the edge of the desk.

“Did they really have a throne built?’ You tilt your head as you look at the maps and blueprints.

“Yes.” Boba moves his finger to point a specific spot on the map. “It’s under the kitchens.”

“Why?” 

“Covers up the noise and controls access. If it was under the casino floor, someone might hear something and go looking.” Your eyebrows shoot into your hairline at the first part. The Hutts had a reputation, but you didn’t think that most of it could be true. Boba lifts his head to look at you. His eyes flick over your appearance briefly.

“So, the kitchen covers up the noise, and since staff are the only ones allowed back there, it’s easy enough to keep it locked off?” He nods in response. “There has to be a second door, right? People would notice if you had strange people filtering in and out of the kitchen constantly.”

“One of the dunes has a secret entrance.” He shuffles the papers around to point at a schematic of the grounds. You nod. Something is bothering you, though. You shift slightly. Boba looks at you, clearly waiting for you to speak.

“Were they as bad as everyone said?” You finally ask. Boba leans back slightly so he can look at you better.

“You made the right choice not dealing with them.” He finally says after a long moment of silence. “Pretty women never leave that place.”

You can’t help your shudder of revulsion. Boba’s tone leaves no room for interpretation. He was right; you could count on one hand the number of women who had made it out of there. You had heard rumors that people were fed to a pack of dogs for amusement. One woman who made it out made a point that a lot of women never even left in a body bag; their remains were fed to some of the dogs or sold to the highest bidder. You look at the map.

“That hallway.” You point. “It doesn’t make sense. Where does the tunnel underneath it go?”

“That lead to the Sarlaac chemical plant.” You can hear a slight inflection in his tone. You can tell just thinking about the place hurts him. No one else might have noticed, but they wouldn’t know what to look for. 

“I know that route is no good.” You eventually speak. “The authorities. When they were looking around the area, they found some underground tunnels, and all of them were caved in. Not that it matters anyway. Krayt Dragons bought the land. I guess the Sarlaac explosion cracked the rocks at least a mile below it. Apparently there’s natural gas down there, so Krayt does fracking. Residents complain about localized earthquakes a lot. I think they might be doing some illegal mining down there as well. The market has been flooded with precious metals and gemstones recently.”

You look up, curious as to what Boba’s opinion is. He’s just staring at you. His arms are crossed over his chest, and his face is impassive. You swear for a second, something soft was in his eyes as he looked at you. You wonder if you imagined it. You look back at the map.

“Hey. When you take control of the palace, you should open up those tunnels again. It’s a good escape plan. I can find a way to confirm if mining is going on in the area. If there is, that gives you unlimited access to a bunch of valuable minerals.” You tap the map in thought. “Actually, Din might have an in there. I feel like I saw something in one of the files.”

“I need to get in there anyway. I’ll look while I’m around.” You look at Boba. The question is written all over your face. He sighs. “My helmet and suit. I had to remove them because of the chemicals. I wasn’t able to carry them out because of that. When I went back, a cave-in had blocked the area.”

You nod. You knew the importance of both of those things. They were the last bits of his father he had. You purse your lips in thought.

“Have you checked the pawn shops in the area? A lot of people went looking through the wreckage. I imagine that some of them looked for things that they could sell.” You drum your fingers on the table for a second. “Honestly? No one checks on what goes on out there anymore. I could probably go looking for you. It would give me something to do.”

You can feel his gaze. You look up at him, curious. 

“You were in one of the search parties.” His tone is matter of fact. “I heard you.”

You swallow hard. You rub the back of your neck.

“Yeah. I was out there. I looked for you.” You take a deep breath. “I went out there every day for a month looking for you. I thought I had searched every inch, but I guess I didn’t. I only stopped because one of the officers posted there caught me. My bosses had to post bail. They had someone watch me for two weeks to make sure I didn’t go back. By the point that was over, I assumed that you were well and truly dead.” Your voice tapers off towards the end. He looks at you for a long moment.

“Cyar’ika.” Boba begins. You shake your head.

“Don’t.” You try to keep your voice steady. “You told me your reasoning, and I- I don’t know if I can respect it or understand it. I get that you wanted to put our child in a position to have a future better than either of us could have dreamed, but that doesn’t excuse your actions. It doesn’t excuse the fact that you left me and let me think that you were dead for five years.”

“What if I had told you I was alive?” Boba challenges. You look at him, startled. “You wouldn’t have believed me. You would have wanted proof. People were watching, cyar’ika. They would have found me.”

“You’re you. I’m sure you would have found a way to get me proof without them being able to trace it back.”

“I was half-dead. An assassin would have seen me as easy money.” His gaze hardens. His jaw sets. “I thought all of it through. I had nothing but time to think while I waited for my wounds to heal.”

“Why not send something after? Once your wounds had healed and you could fight?” It’s hard to keep your voice from rising.

“The explosion changed me, Princess.” His tone holds a note of derision. You can read between the lines and understand what he’s trying to say.

“I don’t care! I love you! I fell in love with you without ever seeing your face!” You place both of your hands over your mouth. “It doesn’t matter to me. I love you, and that’s not something that will just change because your appearance did. I don’t think there’s anything that you could do that would make me not love you.” You blink, trying to get rid of the sudden tears.

“Even abandon you for five years?”

“Even abandoning me for five years.”

“Tell that to Djarin.” He scoffs. You look at him, incredulous.

“Do you really want to go there right now? Because we can. I have no problem with it. But you better be prepared if that’s what you want to do.”

Boba stares at you. His expression is impassive, but you swear you see his jaw twitch ever so slightly. 

“Do you love him?” You don’t know why the question takes you by surprise.

“I don’t know!” This time, your voice comes out much louder than you mean for it to. You clear your throat and defensively cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t know. I’ve known him for what, a week? I mean. I care about him.”

Boba stares at you. This time, his expression is truly unreadable. You would give almost anything to know what he’s thinking. You’ve gotten so used to being able to understand his minute expressions that it’s scary to not know what he’s thinking or feeling. It makes you uncomfortable. You’d forgotten how absolutely terrifying not knowing was when it came to him. You level him with your best stare. You refuse to be intimidated by him. He was doing an excellent job, though, and it was so hard to not start talking again.

A knock on the door nearly makes you jump out of your skin. You whirl around to see who it was. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the briefest amused look on Boba’s face. 

“Enter.”

Fennec opens the door and steps inside. She gently closes the door behind her. She gives you a cursory once over before turning to Boba.

“There’s something you should hear.” She turns to look at you. “You as well. One of the labs that the New Order controls has sent out a message. They hide it fairly well, but they raised the price on the kid’s head.”

The kid? You frown. That couldn’t possibly be Grogu. Could it? You look to Boba. He leans back in his chair. His eyes flick to yours, and he gives you the smallest of nods. The look on his face is somber. It takes all of your willpower not to call Din. You have to remind yourself you’ll see him tonight.

“I’ll let Din know.” Boba’s tone is curt. You hear the dismissal. You get up and slip silently out of the room. As soon as you shut the doors behind you, you can hear Boba and Fennec talking in hushed voices. You decide not to linger. 

************************************************************************************************************

_ The Christmas party was awful. _

_ The food was good. The company went all out of that, as well as the alcohol. The problem was that these types of parties tended to bring out both the best and worst in your coworkers. You never knew when a fun drunk would suddenly flip into a mean drunk. It doesn’t help that ever since Boba had wormed his way into your life, you’ve become more cautious. You used to love big events, but now? All you can think about are the potential dangers lurking around every corner.  _

_ You watch two people in the corner flirting. You know at least one of them is married. You have a feeling that a divorce may soon be in that person’s future. You sigh. You probably should head home soon. It’s getting to be too much; the noise combined with the constant scanning is getting to you. You look at the glass in front of you. You vaguely consider downing the rest of it before you go. You raise it up to your lips when someone calls your name. _

_ Ah fuck. _

_ Lamtur makes his way over to you. It’s clear that he passed drunk at least an hour ago. He can barely make his way over to you. He collapses into the chair beside you. _

_ “ ‘t’s a great party.” He slurs.  _

_ “Sure is.” You reply. You suddenly don’t have the taste for alcohol anymore. You put your glass on the table. Your unwanted guest watches you. _

_ “Where are you goin’?” He hiccups.  _

_ “I should get going.” You respond. You stand up. _

_ “Stay.” He tries to grab your arm. Thankfully, you manage to move your arm in time under the guise of making sure you didn’t leave something on the table. _

_ “I need to get home.” You counter. You pick your coat off the back of your chair. Lamtur tries to get to his feet. He stumbles and has to lean on the table for a second. You try to skirt past him. _

_ “Walk you to your car.” He says. You shake your head. _

_ “I’ll be fine.” You tell him. You don’t want him to know that you took a Lyft since you knew you would be drinking. The idea of him knowing that you would have to wait unnerves you. He waves a hand. _

_ “ ‘T’s right...” He pauses and hiccups. “Wanna do it.” _

_ “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine.” You see the most crowded part of the party. Thankfully, it’s towards the doors. You head that way, hoping to lose him in the people. He follows you with dogged persistence. Your nostrils flare. He says something to you as you start going through the people. You can’t hear him and are grateful that you can’t. You manage to wade through to the other side. You see him stuck in the crowd. _

_ “Fucker.” You hiss under your breath. You manage to get out the doors and onto the sidewalk. You realize that you still haven’t called your Lyft. You huff. You’ll head up to the train station and call them there. You can’t risk waiting around out here if he’s following you, and you have a feeling that a crowd might be your best friend _

_ “Wait.” Lamtur calls your name. Your face twitches. You wonder what God you pissed off this much. _

_ “I don’t need you to walk me to my car.” You tell him. You realize that he’s running to catch up with you. He gets to you and grabs your shoulder. You whirl around and back up. “Let go of me!” _

_ “You’re a bitch, you know that?” Something shifts in his tone. You suspect that he might not have been as drunk as he was letting on earlier. _

_ “Yes. Now leave me alone.” You start walking. You don’t turn your back on him, though. You don’t trust that. He laughs. _

_ “All I wanted to do was be nice, and yet! Everytime I try, you turn me down without giving me a chance. Come on. I can’t be that bad.” _

_ Your silence speaks volumes. You wonder if you can outrun him to the train station. You know you can’t. You try to remember where the weak points were, where to aim for to put him down if he tried anything.  _

_ “You think just because you have a big scary man wrapped around your little finger, you’re untouchable.” He’s advancing on you. Your hands curl into fists. _

_ “I don’t think that.”  _

_ “Then why won’t you give me a chance, huh?” He holds his arms out. “I’m a nice guy! I make lots of money! Come on!” _

_ You don’t know what to say. All you can think of are insults, and that certainly wouldn’t help you in your situation. You see something moving in the shadows of the building you just passed. You blink. You hope that it’s real and not just wishful thinking. _

_ “I’m waiting.” Lamtur looks at you. _

_ “Look. I’m not interested.” You snap. _

_ “You are honest to god such a fu-” -Lamtur nearly squeaks when a hand is placed on his shoulder. It’s hard to keep a grin off your face. He whirls around to see who it is. The street lights reflect off Fett’s visor in a way that makes it seem even darker than it is. _

_ “Finish the sentence.” Boba intones. Promise of violence oozes from every syllalub. Lamtur puffs up. _

_ “You think that because you’ve got some fucking helmet on that you’re tougher than me, huh?” He challenges. “I could take you!” _

_ “I accept your challenge.” You can hear the amusement in his voice. “Tell me. When do you want to die?” _

_ “Boba.” Your voice comes out firm. Both men turn to look at you. “Don’t kill him. You can do whatever you want, but don’t kill him. I don’t need to deal with his paperwork.” _

_ The two men look at each other. Something silent passes between them. You aren’t surprised that Lamtur is stupid enough to try and Take Boba on. He goes for Boba’s gun, but Boba is faster than the man. He twists Lamtur around and down onto his knees while holding his arm. You hear the pop as Lamtur’s shoulder dislocates. The scream echoes. You can see some of the people down by the building the party was in look your way. Another crack, deafeningly loud, and you can see bone pushing its way out of Lamtur’s forearm. People start yelling down the street. _

_ Boba lets go. Lamtur collapses in on himself. He’s crying, snot and tears, as he wails in pain. Boba starts to walk away. He pauses when he’s beside the man. _

_ “Next time, I won’t be nice.” He walks until he’s standing in front of you. “It might be best if I take you.” _

_ You nod. You follow Boba wordlessly. He goes down an alleyway, and the two of your disappear into it just as someone comes running up to check if Lamtur is okay. You don’t look back.  _

_ “Boba.” You finally find your voice when you’re in his car. “I- Thank you.” _

_ He doesn’t say anything. He inclines his head and starts the car. After several moments of the engine being the only sound, he finally speaks. _

_ “He was right about one thing.” His voice is measured, careful. You go back through what Lamtur said, trying to figure out what it might have been. You blink. Could it have been...? No. Well, maybe. You have a way to find out. _

_ “I think he had it wrong.” Your tone is cautious. You clear your throat and look out the window. “If anything, you uh. You have me wrapped around your finger. If you wanted me, well. I’m yours.” _

_ You look out of the corner of your eye at Boba. It’s so hard to read him. It’s especially difficult now since you get the feeling he’s forcing himself to be composed. You can’t be sure, though. You’re about to try and play it off as if you were just messing with him when he says your name. _

_ “Is that something you’d want?” His tone isn’t cautious anymore. It’s teasing, as if he knows the answer but wants to hear you say it. You nod. “Use your words, Princess.” _

_ “Yes.” It takes you a moment to get the word out. “It is.” _

_ “How thick are the walls in your apartment?” _

_ “Decently so. Why?” _

_ “I don’t want anyone disturbing us.” _

************************************************************************************************************

You wander the halls for a bit. You’re starting to feel lost, unmoored, again. You huff. You need something to anchor you, but you don’t know what exactly you need. You don’t know what the right tool for this is. It’s strange. For so long, Boba had been your anchor. Once he died, or you thought he had, you found it in yourself again. Din could be an anchor, but you don’t know if that’s what you want or not. You aren’t sure of what you want or need anymore. That’s what’s really bothering you; you don’t know what you want or need, just that you need something. You need something to hold onto, and you can’t seem to find anything.

The hideout seems to be some sort of abandoned apartment building. You go to one of the windows, and you see why it was abandoned. You can see the large brown dome off the Krayt Dragon building. You look down, and the entirety of the pavement outside is cracked. You look further and see a chain-link fence around the perimeter, declaring the building as abandoned. You frown. That wouldn’t stop a particularly adventurous kid, would it?

“We have someone on the inside here.” You swear and put a hand over your heart. Fennec raises an eyebrow at you in amusement. She comes over to stand by you. “They have a position on the local board, so everyone thinks that this building has asbestos. We also make the other buildings more entertaining.”

“What? By spreading rumors that they’re haunted?”

A smile graces her face briefly. “Something like that.”

You shrug and then nod. Truth be told, if you were an adventurous teenager, you’d much rather hang out in the haunted building than the one with asbestos in it. You look back out the window. The two of you stand there in silence for a moment. It’s oddly comfortable.

“He cares about you, you know.” She turns her head the smallest bit to look at you. “He won’t ever admit to it, but I can tell that he thought about you every waking moment.”

“How do you know that?” You challenge. 

“He gets this look on his face when he talks about you. I noticed it the first moment he said something about you. I paid attention to it. I started seeing it more and more, and I realized. He gets it whenever he thinks about you.” She turns around and crosses her arms over her chest. She leans against the window. “I’m not excusing his action. If someone did something like that to me, they would only have the one chance. I think you should know because I saw how much you love him.”

“Yeah.” You breathe. “I love him a lot.” 

That’s an understatement. You can’t truly describe how much you love him. It feels as if you can’t even begin to quantify it. Asking you to do so would be like asking someone to describe what drowning feels like. Sure, you can describe it, but a description isn’t entirely adequate. At a certain point, words fail you, and the idea can no longer be conveyed through them. Instead, the only way to truly understand it is to experience it yourself. 

“Be careful.” Fennec’s voice brings you back to yourself. “I saw what’s happening between you and Mando. Both men are dangerous.”

“I’m not playing with fire intentionally.” You scoff. “I wasn’t even aware that there was a fire until, what, three days ago?”

Fennec gives you a look that conveys just how much she doesn’t believe you. She’s silent for a moment.

“You would make a good Queen of the Underworld.” She says it in such a nonchalant tone, examining her fingernails. You almost want to splutter. She rolls her eyes. “I heard you and Mando talking the other night. You have some good ideas.”

“But I wouldn’t even know where to begin!” You protest. You’re not going to lie; the idea is appealing. The power and prestige that came with it seemed intoxicating. Not to mention, you could do so much with it. It would open so many doors for you. You have no doubt that it would probably open doors you didn’t even know existed. Fennec gives you another look.

“You have two of the most powerful men in the city at your beck and call.” She reminds you. She saunters off before you can say anything. You watch her go for a moment before turning back to the window. 

What would you even do if you ran the city’s Underworld? You had talked with Din about it, sure, but that was all hypotheticals. This seems more real, as if you could actually do it. You drum your fingers on the busted windowsill in thought. You know you would stop the trafficking in and out of the city, but what else would you do? You feel as if you should make the city better in some way. No one else seems to have that goal in mind, though. Even Din. He wanted to do right by his people, but that didn’t mean his goodwill extended towards the rest of the city. You can’t imagine that it did.

Do you have to make the city better?

Can you be a little bit selfish?

That last thought sticks with you. You wouldn’t say that you were a saint, far from it, but you never considered yourself especially selfish. You had been on occasion, but not nearly as much as you should have been. So many men who were in the position you are would have taken without second thought. You know this for a fact because you worked with them. Guilt rarely seemed to plague them, so why did you let it plague you? Besides, this would give you a purpose again. It would give you a mooring and a direction. You wouldn’t feel so adrift because you’d be set on a goal.

You hate to admit it, but Fennec was right. You did have two of the most powerful men in the city at your beck and call. It would be all too easy to get the backing you needed. You wouldn’t want to rely on them too much because people wouldn’t take you seriously if you did. You would have to make people respect you, which you know you could do. You’ve done it before. That was the biggest part of your job was making people take you seriously and respect you. You could do it.

The thought becomes more and more enticing as it swirls around your brain. If you did this, then that meant people would finally see you for what you’re actually worth. That was one of your biggest problems with your old job was that they never truly saw your full worth. They just framed you in terms of other people, never you.

Oh. Now there was a thought. That would be so satisfying to take over as the Queen of the Underworld, and your bosses have to deal with you. You who knows all of their tricks and secrets and tips. You giggle. They would have no choice but to listen to your demands. They would have to take you seriously.

You grin to yourself. Maybe, just maybe, you have found your anchor.

**********************************************************************************************************

Boba stares at you. The heat of his gaze is mitigated by the fact that several take-out boxes are spread between the two of you. Fennec wasn’t with the two of you; she was following up on something for Boba. It was just the two of you and an assortment of cheap Chinese food. You look back at him and raise an eyebrow.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You tease. He scoffs.

“They’re worth more than that.” He leans back in his chair. His gaze is intent. “Fennec spoke to you.”

You nod. “She did. She gave me something to think about.” You snag a piece of lo-mein with your chopsticks.

“She told me.” You try to not roll your eyes. Of course she did. You don’t know why you’re surprised. Boba stares at you impassively. 

“I’m seriously considering it.” You tell him. “If only for the fact that, if I do this, I could make my old job beg. Make them suffer for all the years that they made me suffer.”

Boba’s lips twitch.

“The company or Lamtur?”

“Both. I think mostly the company, but a good bit Lamtur.” You shrug, feigning nonchalance. You don’t know why. Boba knows you better than anyone else, better than even yourself. He lets out an amused huff.

“You should have let me kill him.”

“I told you. The paperwork wouldn’t have been worth it.” You pause. “Well, actually. You’re right. A lot of his paperwork ended up being shoveled my way anyway because of one reason or another, so. Yeah. I should have let you kill him.”

Boba laughs. It’s short, but it’s a rich laugh. It makes you smile.

“Where do you stand on all of this?” You decide to cut to the chase. You had no idea whether or not he’d be for you or against you. His face becomes impassive again. “I’m not trying to step on toes. I’m just- I haven’t had a purpose in so long, and this seems like it could be good for me. I mean, I don’t know. It’s still in the planning process.”

“Are you asking for my backing?” He counters. You pause.

“I... Yeah. I guess? If I do decide to do it. I’m not sure that I will.” You stab at your lo-mien. “It’s all theory right now. I would like to do it, but I’m not sure about it. If I did, you’d be, I dunno. You’d be King because you’re you. I’m not fighting with you on that.” You pause. “Oh my God. Why didn’t I think of it before?”

Boba gives you a questioning, yet demanding, look.

“We split it three ways. I know you and Din have your little thing set together. There’s going to be people who don’t trust either of you, so we send them my way!” You stop. How would you do that? You huff. 

“Cyar’ika.” Boba leans forward ever-so slightly. “Negotiating is your wheelhouse. Not crime.”

“What if...” You bite your lower lip. “This is so far-fetched, but what if. I don’t know how I’d do it, but I’m sure that there’s a way to get it so that all the companies have to go through me to get to you? I can’t be CEO or anything like that. But that’s. That’s a damn good position. It still counts as running part of the Underworld. It’d be two Kings and a Queen.” You pause and the snort at the phrasing. “Honestly, I’d be damn good at it.”

“Took your time figuring that out.” He leans back to his original position. His tone is mean and derisive. One might even call it mocking. You huff and cross your arms over your chest. You can see the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. You don’t ask him what he thinks of this idea; you already know. He’ll support you on this one. The two of you sit in silence for a bit, finishing up the rest of the food. You can start figuring out how you’re going to go about your new goal tomorrow. For now, you enjoy the rest of your meal.

*****************************************************************************************************

“You should.” Din’s tone alone indicates he thinks it’s a good idea. “It would be a lot easier to manage the city if you did.”

The praise makes your heart glow. You pause. A question has been in your mind all day, but you aren’t sure if you wanted to ask it.

“Din.” Your voice is cautious. “How long have you been working with Boba?”

The other end of the line is quiet for a long moment. Eventually, Din sighs. It’s the sigh of a man who knew he was going to have to have this conversation at some point but wasn’t ready for it just yet.

“A while.” 

“And when were you going to tell me?”

“When things were more... stable.” He clears his throat. “I didn’t want to scare you away.”

It’s your turn to be silent. You don’t know what to say to that. You would like to think that he wouldn’t have scared you away, but you aren’t sure. It probably would have. 

“Making sure that you were safe was tough.” Din is the first to speak. “I was worried if I scared you that you might end up in trouble.”

“End up in trouble? How? And what do you mean that making sure I was safe was tough?”

“Mesh’la.” Din’s tone takes on an amused note. “You were Fett’s girl. People have been trying to kill you for the past five years. You’ve managed to protect yourself some but not as much as you think.” 

You read between the lines.

“How many men did you kill? For me?”

“A lot. All of them that tried to hurt you.”

“That doesn’t tell me much.”

Din is silent for several seconds. You hope that he’s running the numbers. “At least 15 men.”

Your mouth drops open. You don’t know what to say.

“It took a while for them to get the message.” His tone takes on an edge. 

“Wait. At least 15?”

“I stopped counting after a while.” His delivery is deadpan, as if it was some sort of dark joke. You frown. You had no idea. How many men had died because of you? The thought makes your stomach churn slightly.

“I do it all again.” You nearly miss Din’s confession. 

“Din, I-”

“You don’t have to say anything.” He exhales slowly. “I’d kill even more men if it meant you were safe.”

How do you respond to that? It’s not something people say often, yet it’s not the first time that someone has told you something like that.

“Thank you.” You eventually say. You try to convey how much that means to you. It’s strange, being grateful that a man would kill for you, but you were. You can’t imagine what would have happened if any of those men had gotten to you. You don’t say that, though. It would feel too callous to verbalize it.

“Most of them came from your old work.” Din’s tone is oddly matter-of-fact. 

You blink. Your mouth opens and then closes. You don’t know why the news hits you like a ton of bricks, but it does. You honestly shouldn’t be surprised. You swallow hard.

“Really?” Your voice gains a steel edge.

“I didn’t want to make it obvious someone was protecting you, so I never killed the guy who sent them.” You can tell from his tone how very much Din wanted to do so. Your jaw sets. You have a good idea of who might have sent the men to kill you.

“First thing I’m doing is killing that person.” You manage. Din laughs. It’s dark.

“Not if I find him first.”

You take a moment to process his words. You groan when you realize what he’s talking about. “Of course the fucker went into hiding.”

“As soon as you quit.” Din confirms. 

“When you find him, make sure that he suffers.”

“That is the plan.”

You let yourself relax some. Din sounds so sure that he’ll catch them. You have no doubt in your mind that he will. 

“You should go to bed.” Din’s voice filters over the line. The switch from dangerous to soft almost gives you whiplash. You let out a low sigh.

“I should yeah.”

“Good night, sweet girl. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's going to be so satisfying when the company gets their ass kicked, huh?
> 
> Come say hi over at my [Tumblr]()


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter! It's a little bit angsty but not terribly so

You wake up with an arm wrapped around your waist. You aren’t sure when Boba came to bed. Despite your better judgement, you shuffle back further into his embrace. You close your eyes. You try not to think about how you’re going to feel about this later. You just want to focus on the fact that he’s here right now with you.

“You think too much.” Boba’s gruff voice is made even thicker with sleep. You huff.

“Sorry.” You murmur. You go to pull away, but he tightens his grip around you. You don’t fight back. Instead, you let the comforting weight push you into the mattress. God. You’ve missed him. You both hate yourself for it and understand why you feel this. It would be strange if you didn’t feel this conflicted. His life and yours were intertwined for so long. Being with him feels as if you found a missing piece of yourself, one that you thought you had lost for good.

“Do you remember the night you came home after catching Han?” Your voice is soft. Boba huffs out a quiet laugh.

“Of course.” He confirms. The way he says those two words tells you that he remembers it fondly.

“I- God. This is going to sound so silly.” You look towards the far wall. You don’t bother to try and stop the tears that escape. They’re not from sadness. You’re not sure exactly what emotion causes them. “I knew that I loved you. I’m not sure when I realized it, but I knew. I just- I don’t know. I was so afraid of rejection. But I was so worried about you. Not because I thought Han could hurt you but because I knew that it would be awful if you didn’t deliver in a timely manner, and what they considered timely was always changing.” Your voice gets smaller and smaller as you speak. “I just. It was out of my mouth before I even thought about it.”

You look at the covers. Boba is silent for a long moment. You wonder if you’ve ruined the moment and are about to say something to fill in the silence.

“I remember.” His voice is low. He moves so that his hand is closer to yours. It takes you a moment to realize that he doesn’t want to take your hand in case he’s overstepping a boundary but is also giving you the option if you want. You hesitate before taking a hold of his hand, threading your finger through his. He presses himself closer to you, nearly draping himself over you. “I could never forget.”

You press yourself back some, nestling closer to him. He doesn’t have to say much more; you know what he means. You vaguely wonder if he’s not saying more because he has a hard time expressing his emotions verbally or if it’s out of respect for you. You close your eyes. Why did everything have to be so complicated? It would be so much easier on you if you could either hate him or love him outright, but you couldn’t do either. You know that you could never hate him entirely; you can be angry and furious but never truly hate him. On the other hand, you can’t forgive him easily for the past five years. Not to mention, things with Din makes it even more complicated. 

“Cyar’ika.” Boba’s gravel tone brings you back to yourself. You turn slightly so you can look better at him. “I am not a good man. I’m certainly not a kind man. I’ve never wanted to be. That night changed that.”

You reach out with your free hand. You make sure to telegraph the movement. He watches you wearily. You place a hand on his face. The scarring is thick under your fingers. You look him in the eyes.

“I know.”

**************************************************************************************************

The meeting is held at an abandoned ranch not too far from where Boba’s current hideout is. You wish you could have travelled by yourself; it would have made a much more grand entrance. You spent a good bit of the day getting ready, not thinking about the fact that Boba would see you before Din, and thus the surprise would be ruined for him. You wanted to make it clear that you were a partner in this as well, and the easiest way to do that was from the way you dressed. Boba had merely nodded his head the slightest bit when he saw your outfit, so you knew he approved.

Din is already waiting on the porch when you and Boba get there. Grogu is in his arms. When you step out of the Slave I, Grogu about loses his tiny little mind. He lets out a louder cheer and toddles towards you as fast as he can. You grin and make your way over to him, sweeping him up.

“Hi!” You grin. You smooth some of his hair back. Din makes his way over to the two of you. Grogu smiles at you. “Have you been good for your dad?”

Grogu pauses and looks at you before shaking his head.

“You haven’t been good for your Dad?” He giggles and shakes his head again. “What did you do?”

“I put a fake gear shift in the sidecar. The cover of it is loose, and he kept on popping it off to play with it.” Din sounds both exhausted and amused. Grogu giggles and shakes his head a third time. His little grin tells the truth. You level him with your best look, and that makes him laugh.

“What is your dad going to do with you, huh?” You ask conversationally. “You’re such a handful.” He nods at that. You huff. You look to Din with a ‘can you believe it?’ expression. All the while, you can feel the weight of Boba’s gaze on you. You wonder what he’s thinking. You imagine seeing you holding a kid awoke something in him, but it also has to hurt for it to be another man’s kid. You gently set Grogu down. He instantly goes over to Din and does grabby hands. Din bends over and picks him up before turning to Boba Fett.

“Fett.” He nods.

“Djarin.” Boba inclines his head the slightest bit. Something strange passes between them. You feel like they’ve had an entire conversation within that small interaction. Grogu looks at Boba and tilts his head. 

“His name is Grogu.” Din offers.

“I was told.” Boba seems impassive. Something tells you he isn’t. He looks at Grogu who looks right back at him. The stare-off lasts for all of two seconds before Grogu is burying his face in Din’s suit to hide his face. Boba lets out a sharp, surprised laugh. It’s not malicious at all. It’s clearly that he wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction.

“We should probably go inside.” There’s no houses out here for miles, but you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. Both men nod, and the three of you make your way into the ranch. It turns out that the abandoned look is just for show. The interior has been kept clean. None of the decay you would expect from an abandoned building is there. The three of you end up in what must have been a dining room. 

“How do you keep teenagers away from this place?” You scoff. Din takes a seat at one end of the table, Boba at the other. You opt to remain standing, positioning yourself somewhere between the two of them.

“We keep it off the maps and make it hard to find.” Din sets Grogu down. The child makes his way over to the seat across from your side of the table. It makes it feel like a strange sort of family meeting. A very tense, strange family meeting. Boba and Din are staring at each other from across the table. You watch both of them. For all that they seem to be allies, the moment is incredibly tense, as if one of them is liable to start a fight. You’re not sure who would start it.

“We need to figure out what to do about Agent Gideon.” Din is the first to speak. He doesn’t look away from Boba, though. He keeps his visor firmly trained on the other man. Boba inclines his head.

“I agree.”

“What Mayfield gave me didn’t help much.” Din’s frustration bleeds into his voice. “It’s just a ledger, but none of the transactions made sense.”

“Do you have a copy of the ledger?” Both men turn to look at you. “I had to write entries for practically every transaction, and almost all of them were encrypted or encoded. I can see what I can decode, and whatever I can’t, we’ll just have to steal the software.”

“And if they changed the codes?” Boba’s gravelly voice is serious. You know that he’s bringing this up as a precaution, but the remark still stings. You cross your arms over your chest. You have to remind yourself that it isn’t personal; it’s a practical question.

“They wouldn’t have been able to yet.” You scoff. “The company is too damn big for them to be able to do something like that quickly. Besides, these are probably old entries.”

“I’ll get them to you.” Din promises. He sounds almost relieved. You imagine that he has to be. You know that this whole ordeal is weighing on him. If you can crack the codes, that means you’re one step closer to coming back home. You try to ignore the implications behind that thought. Boba looks at the two of you. You swear, you see something in his gaze, the briefest flicker of jealousy. It’s gone before you can say for certain that’s what it was. 

Grogu makes a noise. It’s one that indicates he’s upset that he’s being left out of the conversation. Din’s shoulders drop, but you can tell he’s not mad at the kid. It’s more fond exasperation than actual annoyance. He gets up from his seat and picks up Grogu. The toddler smiles widely at his dad. You place a hand over your chest without even thinking about it as your expression goes soft. You don’t see the way Boba’s jaw seems to unclench. You also miss the way his eyes dart to you.

“I want all of us to be on the same page.” Din speaks after a moment. Grogu seems content now that he’s being held. Din’s visor shifts, going from your direction to Boba’s direction. “Agent Gideon seems like the sort of man who will use everything he can against us.”

“Us not being on the same page means that it’s easy to drive a wedge in-between all of us.” You nod, making sure you don’t look at Boba. You don’t want him to think that the comment is targeted at him. He knows what he did already. It’s hard because you want to drive your point home, but you also know that might do more harm than good. Boba’s nostrils flare. You wonder if the irritation is at you or at Din. Din clearly isn’t overjoyed to see the older man. Boba seems as if he’s on the verge of becoming outright hostile at any minute. 

“Agreed.” He finally speaks. It’s one word, but Boba was the master of loading a single sentence with all kinds of implications. You close your eyes and try to focus. Now was not the time to get into an argument. 

Silence reigns for several seconds. The atmosphere in the room suddenly becomes tense. It takes you a moment to realize why. All of you are in agreement that there should be no more secrets between the three of you. The problem is that all three of you are very clearly keeping secrets from at least one other party, if not both. None of you want to vocalize the secret. You look up to the ceiling for a moment. Perhaps the answer is up there, although you highly doubt it. Din’s visor is trained on Boba. Boba stares evenly back at the other man.

You think. You think about all of the things that the two men should know, and your throat constricts. You’ve been far more honest with them than they have with you. The problem is that you admitting you’ve been keeping things from them makes you seem guilty. You huff.

“I owe you an apology.” Din’s tone is hesitant yet soft and earnest. You look at him, unsure which of the two of you the apology is meant for. He’s looking at you. He lets out a sigh. “I should have let you know that Boba was still alive. I saw how much you were hurting, and I didn’t... I should have told you, and I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted. I forgive you.” Your murmur. Your throat feels tight. You blink away sudden tears. You’ve had people apologize for shitty things they’ve done to you before, but this one was different. Din clearly means it. It’s not a performative act of contrition; it’s a genuine one. Din turns his head to look at Boba.

“I owe you one as well.” Din’s voice is even softer but his tone is more grave. “I didn’t keep her as safe as I should have. I had given you my word she would be safe no matter what, but I didn’t keep it.”

“No need for that. You couldn’t have foreseen some of these situations. Fennec was merely there as a precaution.” His tone makes it clear that arguing with him wouldn’t be a wise move. Din stares at Boba for a moment before nodding. You watch the interaction. It feels less like two equal talking and more like a well-regarded employee and his boss having a conversation. The thought makes your eyes narrow. It raises all kinds of questions in your head, ones you aren’t sure if you want to know the answer to or not.

You sigh and close your eyes. This is probably the appropriate time to voice your concerns, but you don’t want to. You can feel three pairs of eyes on you. You open your eyes and take a deep breath. It was now or never.

“How long have you two been working together?” You try to keep your voice even and neutral. “I know that Din’s been watching me since...” You swallow hard.

“A little over five years.” Din supplies. You nod. You look at Boba. You wonder where his head is at right now. Boba leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his broad chest. His face is impassive. You frown. He could potentially be mulling something over, or it could be his tried and true strategy of not letting anyone see his hand. You look back at Din. It’s clear the poor man is uncomfortable. His shoulders are high up his neck, and he keeps on shifting his weight. 

“We have another matter to discuss.” Boba finally speaks. He shifts so he’s sitting more upright and uncross his arms. He turns to look at you. “Companies won’t take kindly to you being in control of the contracts.”

“I’ve been thinking about that.” You resist the urge to bite the inside of your cheek. “I’m not sure how many of my old contacts are out there, but I figure they’ll be a good place to start. I’m sure I can also usurp a lot of people who’ve had to work with Lamtur. They can’t be happy with his work at all.”

“Greef can help you.” Din sits back down. Grogu turns his head to look at you and then to Boba. “He’s been keeping tabs on who is working with which company, if any.”

You nod. That makes sense. The company you used to work for liked to ensure that certain bail bondsmen got the contract for certain people. It would be a good starting point. You take a seat as well. The atmosphere changes somehow, and you aren’t sure how to describe it. Things feel a little more even now that all of you are sitting. You still feel the need to assert yourself, to let both of them know that they can’t walk all over you, but it isn’t as strong. You look at Din and then at Boba.

“We should address Bo-Katan as well.” Din speaks. He looks between you and Boba. Boba makes a dismissive noise. It’s clear that she’s barely on his radar.

“I feel like I should deal with her.” You lean back in your chair, resisting the urge to throw your arm over the back of it. “Boba can’t if he’s still laying low. And you need to be focusing all of your energy on Gideon.”

You see Boba give the briefest of nods out of the corner of your eye. Din stares at you for a moment.

“No.” You open your mouth to argue, but Din holds up a hand. “You’re laying low. I can’t risk it.”

“Okay, but this isn’t your decision to make.” You snap. The venom in your tone even surprises you for a second. Din quite literally recoils, moving back slightly in surprise. Boba merely shifts to look better at you. Even Grogu’s expression changes, getting an almost worried look on his face. You sigh. You take a deep breath and try to fight off the urge to rub your temples.

“I’m tired of both of you making my decisions for me.” You eventually say after taking a moment to collect your thoughts. “I know I don’t know as much about this as the two of you, and I know that you both worry. But I. I can still make informed decisions.”

Din sits up straighter.

“I’m not trying to do that. I would never do something like that to you. But I also ca-”

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” Boba stops Din dead in his tracks. To your surprise, he sounds darkly amused. You glare at him, unsure of what exactly could be so funny to him. Boba’s lips twitch ever-so slightly. Din considers the statement for a second. He seems to deflate some. His shoulders drop, and he looks at the table. He lets out a sigh of his own, one that betrays how tired he is. The visor turns so it’s trained on you.

“I don’t know what I would do if you were hurt.” Din’s tone is thick with sadness. It sounds as if the thought alone tears him apart. Your jaw relaxes, and your shoulders drop slightly at that.

“I know. But you can’t just make my decisions for me.” You counter. The earlier anger is gone, but your tone is still firm. The visor doesn’t move. It’s strange, having a staring contest with a helmet. After a long moment of silence, Din’s shoulders slump all the way down. He turns to look at Boba, as if he’s asking for help. Boba merely raises his brow, the amused smirk from earlier threatening to come back on his face. Din’s head drops. You’re surprised he doesn’t let his forehead hit the table.

As you watch him, you run over his words in your head. You can feel something beginning to take shape, but you aren’t sure what. Whatever it is seems like it might be a good idea. You can feel Boba looking at you. Your lips part ever-so slightly as you think, and you blink several times. Your eyes narrow as you consider the idea that’s taking shape in your brain. It would be risky, so very risky, but it might be worth it. Slowly, your lips curve into a dark smile. Din lifts his head up slightly. The visor is once again trained on your face.

“Boba.” You begin. “Does Gideon know you’re still alive?”

“No. I plan on keeping it that way.” Boba looks at you expectantly. Something in his eyes lets you know he’s interested in whatever it is you have planned. You look at Din.

“How good of an actor are you?”

You can practically hear him wrinkle his face in confusion. He sits up slowly and stares at you. The wheels in his head are turning as he tries to figure out why you would ask that. He looks to Boba and then back at you.

“Depends on what it is.” He states after several seconds. “I’m not following.”

You look at Boba. He stares back at you. His eyes flick to Din and then back to you. He regards both of you for a minute. You tilt your head ever-so slightly so Din can’t see your face. You raise both of your eyebrows in question. Din’s helmet turns as he looks at the two of you, clearly trying to figure out your silent conversation. Grogu moves his head like he’s watching a tennis match, eyes wide as he does so. Boba eventually nods. It’s a small movement, but you see it. You turn to face Din.

“I have a plan.”

*************************************************************************************************************

Thank God Din drove his motorcycle to the meeting. That meant that the two of you couldn’t talk on the way back home. Even now, you can feel how unhappy he is with this plan. At least Grogu is happy that you’re coming home. As soon as Din parks the motorcycle and you get off of it, Grogu makes grabby hands, demanding that you pick him up. You easily pick him up, and he giggles. That makes you laugh in return. The happy sounds do little to deter Din’s foul mood. He practically stomps ahead of you to unlock the door. Grogu looks at his dad.

“I’m okay, buddy.” Din sighs after a moment. He reaches out and ruffles his son’s hair fondly. “Nothing bad is happening.”

Grogu stares at him and makes a noise. He then looks at you with the most accusatory look a toddler has ever given you. You gasp.

“Hey, I didn’t do it!” Grogu eyes you warily. You let out a sigh. “It’s complicated. Your dad and I are going to talk about it, and then everything will be better. Do you trust me?”

His expression doesn’t change. For a moment, you think that he doesn’t trust you until he looks at Din. Din nods.

“We need to talk about it, but it’s okay. You can trust her.”

The toddler looks back at you. He regards you for a long moment before snuggling into your hold. Din opens the door to his house, and you slip in silently behind him. He closes it after you. You place Grogu down on the floor. He looks at the two of you.

“Go get your toys. You can play in the living room.” Grogu nods before scampering off to his room. You take a seat on the couch. 

Din stands for a moment and then begins pacing. He doesn’t say a word. He just puts his hands in front of his helmet. Grogu toddles back in a couple minutes later, dragging a stuffed rhino plushie behind him. He makes his way over to you. He regards the couch for a moment before climbing onto it. You watch him with a smile. He has to let go of his rhino plushie to do so, and once he’s up, you hand him the toy. He shakes his head.

“Oh? You want me to have it?” The child giggles and shakes his head. “What do you want, then?”

“He wants you to play as the rhino.” Din settles himself in his chair. He watches the two of you intently. You turn to Grogu.

“Since you asked so nicely...”

You spend some time playing with Grogu. Din gets dragged into the fun as well. You don’t pay attention to the time. You simply enjoy the moment. It’s domestic and soft, and it’s oddly what you need. You catch yourself looking at Din a lot. You wonder what it would be like if things were simple. If it was just you and him and Grogu. Of course, the minute you think about that, you begin to think about what life could have been like had the Sarlaac explosion never happened. What would domestic life with Boba have been like? What would your child have been like? Do you want what you had with Boba back or do you want your new life with Din? That question isn’t one you want to dwell on for too long.

You know what you want. The truth of the matter is that you don’t think you could choose between the two men. Even if you were forced to do so, you don’t know which one you would pick. You would always wonder what life was like with the other man. You don’t even think that a life without either of them in your life would be much of a life at all. You couldn’t lose Boba, not again. Even though you’re furious with him, the thought of losing him tears you apart. 

You sneak a glance at Din. You don’t think that you could live without Din either. You hadn’t known him for long, but he had made a home for himself in your heart. Din had become a rock, a constant in your life, in such a short span of time. You don’t know how he managed, but it was like Din knew you better than anyone else. Boba knew you well, knew you better than anyone else, but somehow. Din seems to know just as well. 

You almost felt like a complex jigsaw puzzle, a strange dual kind. You had one side of the puzzle together with Boba. The picture there was complete, identical to the one on the box. You had simply assumed that the other side would fill in as your life did. Din was that other side. He fit with you in a different way but one that still completed a picture. The ways in which he fit were different than the ways Boba did, but that didn’t matter. Neither picture would be complete without the other one.

That’s the problem. Your life would be incomplete without the other. Neither of them has asked you to choose one over the other, but you keep on waiting. One of them will surely ask, and you’ll have to make a choice that you simply can’t make. The worst part is that you feel guilty for not making that choice. If you don’t make it now, then you’ll unintentionally end up leading the other one on, and that would be just cruel. Yet you can’t make that choice, not without being forced. 

These thoughts swirl throughout your brain as you play with Din and Grogu. They continue as the three of you eat dinner, and you see no sign of them stopping once you put Grogu to bed.

“You’re thinking too much.” Din’s voice brings you back to yourself. You’re settled on the couch, Din beside you. He managed to get you to lay down and has placed your legs in his lap. Grogu is curled up in the arm chair. A rerun of some show plays on the tv, but you haven’t been watching. You shake your head. 

“Sorry.” You respond quietly. You’re acutely aware of how this unintentionally mirrors this morning. Din shakes his head.

“Don’t apologize.” He runs his hands along your calves. “I should be the one apologizing.” 

You shift, sitting up and looking at him.

“You’re right. I can’t stop you from doing things.” His voice is low. You can barely hear him over the noise from the tv. The helmet turns to look at you. “I meant what I said. I can’t lose you, but. I also can’t stop you. That’s not fair to you.”

“Din.” You breathe. You’re unsure of what to say. 

“These past few days have been rough.” He admits. “I... I worried about your safety, but I also. I worried that once you saw him again that...” He lets out a long breath.

“I wouldn’t. I can’t.” You swallow hard. You look away. “That’s. That’s what I’ve been in my head about. I wouldn’t leave you. I can’t leave you, but. I can’t leave him either. And I know that’s selfish of me, and that I should make a choice because one of you is going to ask me to ma-”

You didn’t hear Din take off his helmet. You didn’t see him do it through the tears that were threatening to spill. He must have been he turns your head, and his lips are on your faster than you would have thought possible. Your eyes flutter closed naturally, so you didn’t get a look at him. Your hands go to the side of his face, and you return the kiss with the same intensity. When he pulls away, he doesn’t go far. He simply rests his forehead against yours. You keep your eyes closed.

“I’m not asking you to make that choice.” Din’s voice is soft. “I don’t want you to feel as if you have to.”

“Boba might ask me too.” You point out. 

“Maybe. But he hasn’t yet.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only warnings I have are for kidnapping!

“I want to take you to meet someone.” You pause cleaning Grogu’s face with a wet napkin and look at Din. The toddler stops making disgruntled noises as soon as you quit cleaning his face. Din’s visor is trained on you. The words themselves were nothing to worry about, but something in the way he said them made you nervous. It sounds solemn.

“Alright.” You nod. “Who am I meeting?”

Din shifts in his chair. You start working on getting all of the oatmeal off of Grogu’s face. He had thought it would be funny to play with his food and ended up with his breakfast covering his face. You keep an eye on Din as you try to get a glob of oatmeal out of the squirming toddler’s eyebrows. You give him time to figure out what he wants to say. He shifts again and lets out a long sigh.

“She’s one of my Elders.” Din states. Something is clearly weighing heavily on his mind.

“I don’t like this plan.” His voice is softer than normal. “I know I can’t stop you. I- You mean a lot to Grogu. And to me. You are...” He pauses. He lets out a slow exhale. “You are a part of.... This .I want you to have something to show that.”

You stop once again. This time, you turn fully to him. You have an idea of what he’s trying to say without actually saying the words.

“Din. I-” You swallow hard. A million thoughts are running through your head. You don’t know what to say or how to say it. You close your eyes for a moment. When you open them, you smile at him. “I’d be honored. If you’re sure that’s what you want.”

“Yes.” It’s a single word, but it conveys so much meaning. He looks at you. Even though you can’t see his face, you can tell he’s got a serious yet adoring look on it. A soft smile makes its way onto your face, and you feel the need to duck your head. You reach a hand out towards him. After a moment, he takes it. This time, you do look away so he can’t see the lovestruck look on your face.

Grogu apparently isn’t a fan of lovey-dovey moments.

His eyes narrow, and he looks between the two of you. You see him looking at you and then the spoon and then the oatmeal. A wide grin splits across his face.

“Don’t you da-”

_ SPLAT _

He lets out a delighted laugh. You give him your best stern look. It has to be undermined by the glob of oatmeal on your cheek. His laughter peters off into tiny giggles that shake his whole body. You look to Din.

“Deal with  _ your _ son while I go wash my face.” Your tone is stern. The smile on your face lets him know that you really aren’t all that upset. You quickly get up and head to the bathroom. Thankfully, it’s easy enough to wash the offending glob from your face. You can hear Din talking to Grogu as you head back to the kitchen. You stop just outside of the kitchen doorway and listen to them.

“I know you’re happy she’s back.” Din doesn’t see you. He’s too busy getting more of the oatmeal off of the toddler’s face. “I am too.”

Grogu makes a long, drawn out noise. Din shakes his head.

“I don’t know. I think it might be permanent.” Grogu squirms in Din’s hold. You decide to make your presence known and step into the room. Din looks up.

“Do you need help?” You take a seat. Din nods. He doesn’t ask if you heard anything or how long you were listening. You take Grogu and begin working on getting the gloopy substance out of the child’s eyebrows.

**************************************************************************************************

Din parks the motorbike in an abandoned parking lot. You get off the bike and wait for Din. Din picks up Grogu and holds him. You had tried to get Din to leave Grogu with Cara; wherever you were going didn’t sound like a place that a little kid should go. Din had been adamant that Grogu come along. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust anyone to watch Grogu; it was more that he didn’t know what lengths that Gideon would go to get the small child.

Silently, Din slips off the bike. They used to be building some sort of park in this area. You’re not sure why the project was stopped. He heads towards where the river running through the park is and walks down the bank. You scramble behind him, nearly toppling over at one point. Grogu giggles from his position in his dad’s arms.

Din leads you towards an open culvert. It’s large, larger enough that you only really have to duck to get through it. Grogu falls oddly silently once you get there, which doesn’t help your nerves. Din pauses once the three of you are inside the stone cylinder.

“It’ll be fine.” He assures you. “Trust me.” His words echo in the culvert.

“I do.” You nod. Din studies you for a long moment before starting again. You follow closely behind him. The culvert opens into a much larger area.

“Watch your step.” Din warns as he drops down. He shifts so he’s holding Grogu with one hand. He holds his now free hand out to you as you reach the lip of the culvert. You take it with a small thanks and ease yourself down to the ground. This area was much different. You can see different openings to different drainage systems around the area. One of the areas sticks out to you. It looks more like a door than another pipe. Din strides over to it. He pauses for a second.

“Can you-?” He gestures to Grogu as he begins speaking. He doesn’t even need to finish his sentence; you’re over by him and taking Grogu from his arms. The kid lets you take him. He keeps his eyes on what Din is doing. Din kneels down by the drain cover, hands running along the bottom of it. He finds what he’s looking for and grasps the metal. He lifts it. He has to stop at one point to adjust his stance, needing to use his thighs to brace himself better. Eventually, he pushes it up to the top. He stands up, and you hand Grogu back over to him.

The three of you venture into this new pipeline. To your surprise, it’s lit inside. Someone has taken the time to add lights along this hallway. You look to Din in confusion. He shakes his head.

“Later.” He promises.

Someone calls out from down the hall. It’s in a different language, one that you recognize but don’t know. The person is female, you think. The voice sounds modulated, like Din’s does when he’s wearing his helmet. Din responds. The voice calls back.

“Follow me.” You step forward on suddenly shaky legs. Din notices this and places a gentle hand on your back. It helps ground you for a moment. You close your eyes. You nod, and the three of you walk further down the pipe? Hall? You aren’t really sure what to call it anymore.

At the end is a round room. It’s lit by what looks to be an actual forge. You look at Din in confusion. What the hell was that doing down here? You look back and see a woman standing by it. She’s got a helmet, this one a deep gold, on, and it has what looks to be horns on the sides of it. She says something to Din again. He nods and takes a seat. You stand, unsure of what to do. A ‘clank’ echoes in the room, and you realize the woman has set down a hammer and another tool. She steps forward, her helmet tilted ever-so slightly. 

“You’re the girl.” It’s a statement of fact, not a question. You nod anyway. You clasp your hands behind your back. You’re not sure why. Something about her reminds you of some of the ex military your old company employed. The difference was this woman didn’t have to do anything to command your attention and respect; her simple presence did. It’s clear that she’s evaluating you.

“What do you want with Din?” Her tone is blunt. You don’t know why that takes you by surprise. You take a deep breath. “I’ll know if you are lying.”

Well. That wasn’t ominous. All kinds of words and phrases, what you should say and what you shouldn’t, start swirling around your brain. You feel her gaze on you, and realize that the longer you try to figure out the answer, the more suspicious she’ll become. You close your eyes. You take another deep breath. Whatever comes out of your mouth will be the truth.

“He’s my...” You pause. You aren’t sure what he is. You can feel her gaze harden. You swallow. “He’s my partner.” That seems good enough. It’s clear that he means a lot to you without it being so specific that you have to talk about your feelings. 

“I see. And how do you feel about him?”

These questions would be so much easier if he wasn’t in the room.

“I-” You close your eyes and shake your head. You need to be honest, not just with her but with yourself. You open them again and look directly into the visor. “I love him.”

It occurs to you as the words leave your mouth that you haven’t said them until just now. You’d indicated you’d felt that way through actions and words. Hell, you’d all but told him that, but you never said the actual words. For a moment, you could swear you heard a sharp intake from Din. The Armorer studies you for a long moment. You imagine that her face would be just as unreadable as her helmet.

“I don’t need to ask him how he feels.” Her tone is still factual, but an odd note of mirth enters it. She turns to Din, and the two of them begin conversing in that language you don’t know. You think it might be Mando’a. You know that you’ve heard Boba used it before, mostly in the context of terms of endearment for you or swearing. Grogu looks between the two with wide eyes. You watch them as well, curious to see if you can glean anything from their conversation just by their actions.

The Armorer eventually turns back to you. She studies you again. You can almost feel her pursing her lips as she gives you a once-over. She goes back behind her forge, din following dutifully behind her. You can’t see what exactly she hands him. You think it’s a small box of some kind. The two converse in low voices before they turn back to you. 

“Thank you.” Din stops when he’s by your side. He’s looking at the Armorer. She inclines her head once before training her gaze back on you.

“I don’t need to tell you what happens if you hurt him.” The threat is evident. You nod.

“I know.” You look at Din out of the corner of your eyes. “I don’t think I can.”

The walk out of the culvert system is quiet. Din seems to be thinking over something, continually running his hand over whatever it is that’s in his pocket. You’re curious about what it is, almost dying to know. You also have an idea of what it might be. You hope you’re right.The three of you eventually stumble back out into the daylight. You expect for Din to take you back up the bank and to the motorbike. Instead, he looks towards some of the trees nearby.

“Can we walk that way?” His voice is soft. You nod.

“Of course.” You follow him down in that direction. He’s silent on the walk over to them, clearly lost in thought. Eventually, he stops under the trees.

“I want you to know that you don’t have to accept.” His voice is quiet but not shy. He’s clearly thought about whatever it is he’s about to ask of you. “But I can’t let you go into a dangerous situation without giving you this.”

“Din.” You breathe. He looks up. You notice that he’s pulled the small box from his pocket. “Is that what I think it is?”

“...Yes. Do you...?”

You nod. You can’t trust yourself to speak. “I would be honored.” You whisper. Din opens the box. A necklace is inside, like the one you’re wearing right now. The difference is instead of Boba’s signet, it’s Din’s. Din places Grogu on the ground. The kid clings to his leg. Hesitantly, Din plucks the necklace from its box. You turn so your back is to him. He gently places the necklace so the signet rests just below your clavicle. You lift your hair up, and he clasps the necklace. His fingers barely brush against the back of your neck as he does so, but it’s still enough to send sparks through your veins. You turn to him with a smile. The weight is familiar yet different.

“How does it look?” You smile at him. 

“It looks... good.” His voice drops an octave, sending a pleasant tingle up your spine. He stares at you, but it’s not in a threatening way. It’s clear that he wants nothing more than to pick you up and pin you against the nearest tree as he kisses you senseless. He looks down all of a sudden. You guess that Grogu must have tugged on his pant leg. Din leans over and picks Grogu up, holding the child in the crook of his arm. You reach out and snag his free hand as the three of you walk back to the motorbike.

*********************************************************************************************************

Bo-Katan is simultaneously not who you expected her to be and exactly what you expected her to be. You’re sitting in the corner of a coffee shop with your back to a wall and an excellent sightline towards the door. You try to keep yourself calm and collected. You know that a big part of the plan was for you to be out in the open; it made it a lot easier for you to be kidnapped if you weren’t hiding. Still, the thought that someone might be lurking in the crowd makes you nervous. You keep your eyes on the door, praying that she gets her sooner rather than later.

You almost miss her. You expect her to be wearing her helmet when she walks inside. Instead, you see she’s got her helmet tucked neatly under one arm. She looks around the room. The only way you can think to describe her gaze is imperious. You’re not sure she looks like royalty, but she certainly carries herself like one. She stops you and heads your way. She takes the seat across from you.

“You’re not what I expected.” Her tone is point-blank. Your lips twitch.

“I could probably say the same for you.” You counter. You take a sip from the latte you’d ordered while waiting. She eyes you for a long moment.

“Why am I here?” She asks. The way she says it implies she thinks that this will end up being a waste of her time. You set your cup down carefully.

“A lot has been going on lately, and until things are settled, you and Din need to have a working relationship. It doesn’t have to be a good one, just one that gets things done.”

“It would be a good one if he would just concede. I have a rightful claim. He doesn’t.” She practically snarls. You lean back in the booth and study her for a long moment.

“This is about more than that.” Your tone is calm. She raises an eyebrow. “The... militia is back.”

“Back?” She arches an eyebrow. “They can’t be. We’ve been wiping out the dredges.”

“Not all of the dredges, and they’ve found a way to make a comeback.” You respond evenly. She looks at you.

“If you’re asking for my help, you need to ask directly.” You shake your head.

“I’m not asking for help at all. As I said, this is more to establish a rapport than anything else. In case you need  _ our _ help.”

Her facial features twist into a truly ugly expression before she can stop herself. If looks could kill, you would have dropped dead.

“And why should I listen to you? You have no loyalty to anyone.” You arch an eyebrow.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Does Din know that he’s a replacement for a dead man?” She leans back in her chair. “Of course, he is using you. Using Fett’s girl as a last ditch effort for leverage and power. It’s kind of sad.” Your jaw twitches. It takes all of your effort to keep your smile polite.

“Do you want to know something?” You begin conversationally. “Everyone calls me Fett’s girl and uses it to put me down, as if he had some sort of ownership over me. They don’t take into account that the ownership went both ways. Which begs the question.” You smile at Bo-Katan. “Do you really want to piss off the woman who made Fett her’s? Because I wouldn’t.”

For supposed royalty, Bo-Katan doesn’t have the poker face that she should. You can see several different emotions flash across her face before she can reign her expression in.

“You don’t scare me.” She says lowly. “I’ve had far more important people than you threaten me, and they couldn’t scare me. It’s laughable you think you can.”

“I don’t scare you at this moment.” You grin at her. This grin is sharp and feral. “But I will.”

The conversation is interrupted by your phone ringing. You grab your phone and look at the caller ID. It’s Din.

“Excuse me for a moment.” You slip out of your chair and answer the call.

“Hey. What’s wrong?” You know something has to be wrong, Din wouldn’t just call you in the middle of a meeting.

“Gideon got Grogu." Your blood runs cold. You nearly drop your phone. "He fucking took him!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man I do love me some cliffhanger chapter endings


End file.
